Living Conditions
by SweetChi
Summary: The apocalypse is over, the world is safe and Dawn's looking forward to her first year at Stanford. Unfortunately, Buffy is having trouble letting go, prompting Dawn to seek a distraction for her overprotective sister to focus on. Enter Sam Winchester.
1. Chapter 1

**Timeline - **A year after season seven of BtVS and the year before season one of SPN. I'm not sure of the actual age difference between Dawn and Buffy - I'm putting Dawn at 19, a freshman in college and Buffy at 23. Sam's 21, in his third year at Stanford.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter One**

"She's evil, she has to be stopped," Dawn said through clenched teeth as she marched from the building, leaving the snickering behind her.

"Now, now, let's not do anything drastic," Celia said, with a grin. "I personally think it's adorable how your sister dotes on you."

Dawn stopped their trek across campus to look at her friend and roommate with disbelieving eyes, "She interrupted my econ class to make sure I had a sweater. A _sweater_, Celia!"

"It _is_ getting a little nippy," she shrugged, almost rupturing something in an attempt to hold back her laughter.

Dawn ripped off said sweater and threw it on the ground in a childlike show of fury. She'd taken it from her sister in an openmouthed moment of shock - hardly believing such a nightmare was really happening. She stomped on the garment at her feet a few times for good measure, then took a deep breath and continued on her way, leaving the sweater lying in the dirt. She felt a little better, but not much.

Since she'd started at Stanford two months ago, the very atmosphere had given her an ultra happy vibe. A feeling of peace and normality. No Hellmouthy shenanigans here, nosiree. All wholesome preppy quality education. But today the vibes just weren't penetrating the black cloud hanging over her. The Buffy induced Cloud of Embarrassment.

Her sister was out of control and had to be stopped.

Dawn had been ecstatic when she'd been accepted into Stanford, and Buffy had been so proud of her. The thought of striking out on her own, living by herself, making new friends - it had her completely spazzy, but in a good way. Not that she hadn't liked the new Slayer central. Scotland was cool… in a "wow look at the moors, and the fog and the whole lot of nothing" kinda way. But not exactly somewhere Dawn pictured herself staying forever.

While they had all the funding from the old Watchers Council and tons of Slayers, they were severely lacking in Watchers and other assorted personnel. Dawn had tossed the idea of training to be a Watcher around for the last year while Giles helped home school her through her senior year, but in the end the appeal of doing something on her own, getting out from under Buffy's shadow, had won out.

So, she decided she was going to be a lawyer for the new Council. One Slayer got in enough trouble, now there were hundreds that were bound to be causing all kinds of headaches for the lawly types and Dawn figured that's where she'd come in. Rescuing the Slayers - the thought gave her a smug sort of satisfaction. She might not be super strong or fast or able to leap small buildings in a single bound, but she was smart and she was the best bullshitter ever - she'd make a kickass lawyer. So that was the plan.

What _hadn't_ been part of the plan was Buffy following her to Stanford, buying a house close to campus and expecting Dawn and her to live there. It seemed Buffy wanted to use her new freedom from being the only Slayer (or the only one not incarcerated) to concentrate on getting the normal life she'd always wanted, which apparently included her and Dawn sharing a house.

The rule that said all first year students had to live on campus had never seemed like such a Godsend before that moment.

The double room she shared with Celia in Florence Moore Hall (AKA FloMo) was cramped and sparse. Nothing compared to the house Buffy had bought with its big front porch surrounded by beautiful mature trees and filled with large beds and overstuffed furniture (Dawn's head spun with what it must have cost - Buffy wouldn't tell her, just said it was "compensation from the old Council of Asshats"), but Dawn loved her little dorm room.

"Okay, so she's a little Susie Homemaker. Doesn't mean you need to take her out," Celia giggled.

"Nah, she'd be too hard to kill," Dawn muttered thoughtfully. "She needs something to do. Something to keep her mind off me and the Brady Bunch routine."

Okay, so Buffy was great. She saved the world, kicked lots of ass and had taken care of Dawn the best she could. The problem was that the world didn't need saved right then, there was only so much evil ass to kick and Dawn didn't need to be taken care of anymore. She was a freshman in college and didn't need her big sister hovering and playing Mother Hen.

Buffy was still Slaying, but it was more of a part time gig these days. There were three other Slayers on the west coast so Buffy just stuck to doing local stuff - going further only when the other girls where busy or Giles deemed a job too big for any of the other girls to handle. Which meant that Buffy had too much free time on her hands.

Free time to make Dawn's life hell.

Maybe she could get her to take up a hobby, like knitting or video games or painting. Or maybe she could call up Giles, convince him that Buffy needed more work. Or maybe-

"Come on, man. Don't do this," an agitated voice said, interrupting Dawn's thoughts - the distress activating her gossip meter. Looking up she saw a gigantically tall guy pleading with another guy right by the entrance to the library.

"I'm sorry, Sam. But this just isn't gonna work," the other guy said, blond and good looking in a wholesome kinda way.

Dawn paused, making it look like she was digging through her bag for something when she was really just nosey. Was this a lover's spat? Inquiring minds needed to know. Celia stopped next to her, pulling out her phone and pretending to text while Dawn sifted through the crap in her bag. This was a familiar act, it was how they got all the best gossip.

"I mean, I heard about the salt thing first year, but didn't think it was a big deal. Then second year, when you did the weird symbols on everything, that was Josh, my cousin you were dormed with. So this year, when we got a room together, I expected some weirdness, but I draw the line here, Sam," the blond continued. Then went on in a softer voice. "Listen, I'm not going to tell anybody, but you need to find somewhere else to live."

Dawn's eyes lit with an unholy light as a plan blossomed in her mind.

The blond guy walked off, leaving the tall one, Sam, behind with a worried look on his face. He ran a hand through his floppy hair, messing it up in a cute kind of way. He was big and handsome and looked like he worked out, but was lacking that cocky "I'm good looking and I know it" air. Dawn giggled with glee inside, this could work out very well. As long as he wasn't gay…

"Sounds like you need a place to live," she said, giving up on trying to look like she wasn't eavesdropping and marching right up to him, Celia scrambling after her. He had nice eyes, she noticed when he looked at her - foxtail shaped and a dark hazel.

"Uh…"

"Was it something illegal? Dangerous?" Dawn asked, then clarified at his confused look. "The reason you got you booted by your roommate? He was just your roommate, right? Not a boyfriend/partner thing?"

"Yes, I mean no," he answered, his brow furrowing up as he shook his head. "It wasn't illegal and I'm not gay."

She wasn't sure whether to believe him or not, but he didn't _look_ dangerous or deranged. And she was an expert in these things. His roommate probably just found his pot stash and got all Deputy Do Right on him. Some people around here could be pretty uptight. The gay thing she'd just have to take his word on.

"So, you seem to have some strange quirks - salt, symbols - that mean you're pretty open minded about other peoples… oddities?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess. That was just-"

"You ever been arrested?"

"No. Why-"

"If you saw a cat in a tree, what would you do?"

"Rescue it?" He said, cocking an eyebrow and holding his hands palm up, looking lost.

"What's your GPA?"

Sam let out a long suffering sigh, "3.9."

Dawn took a moment to be impressed, it wasn't easy getting a GPA that high in a place like Stanford. Maybe not a stoner after all… He had to be kinda bookish to get grades like that. She didn't know if someone that spent all their free time studying would fit into her plan.

Then Buffy, in full "mom" mode, bursting into her econ class and calling her "Dawnie" in front of everyone, popped into her mind. She shuddered and put on her resolve face.

"Then I have somewhere you can stay."

"You do?" Sam asked, looking a little dazed at the turn of events.

"Yep," Dawn said with a grin. "With my sister."

Sam's overwhelmed look was fading into suspicion, his intelligent gaze focusing on her made her momentarily rethink the brilliance of this plan, but she immediately shoved her doubts aside. The fact that he was hot, but also managed to pull off the lost puppy thing at the same time, overrode her concerns. He was just the thing she needed to distract Buffy.

"Your sister?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Your offering a complete stranger a place to live with your _sister_ after hearing him get kicked out of his dorm room for a reason you don't know?"

Dawn rarely felt short, even when her stature was lower than others she usually still felt equal to them. A product of surviving the apocalypse maybe. Or maybe being around the Slayer and then all the Almost-Slayers for so long - she'd always felt kind of small and unimportant next to them, so she'd bolstered herself as to not feel completely insignificant. That meant she usually felt bigger than (and though she'd never admit it - _better_ than) most people. But Sam had just made her feel miniscule. And that pissed her off. Even more determined than before, she reinforced her courage and gave her ego a quick pep talk before continuing.

"My sister and I lived in… a pretty bad area. I'm an excellent judge of character," she said, shooting him a huge smile, hoping to disarm him, her mind racing a mile a minute. "The thing is, even if you _were_ a little dangerous, that be okay. I'm kinda looking for someone to watch out for her. She moved here as a surprise, thinking I'd be living with her, but she didn't know I couldn't live off campus."

Sam's suspicious face was softening some and Dawn gave an inner crow of victory. She was wearing him down!

"So now she's in that big house all by herself," she went on, forcing herself to look worried. "I know Palo Alto's not exactly Rape Town, USA, but it could happen."

Hmm, he was considering it, but still not sold…

"And my sister's really, really accident prone. It's like she's cursed or something," Dawn went on, tilting her head and looking off to the side, so busy trying to come off as the concerned sibling that she missed the way Sam's eyes sharpened at her choice of words. "I'm just really worried about her. She's all alone there…"

"So, I'd be babysitting her?"

_Uh-oh, too far! Too far! Backpedal!_

"Well, I'm not saying she's helpless, far from it. And she's not even there that much. She's a…" _Something sexy! Think of something sexy! Hurry!_ "Bounty hunter."

She blurted it out before it really registered, but when it did, she couldn't have been more impressed with herself. It was _perfect_! It would explain her odd hours, disappearing for days on end, random injuries and the other assorted weirdness that came with being Buffy.

"Your sister's a _bounty hunter_?"

"Uh, huh. Well, mostly retired, she owns part of a bonding company now and just takes on the big cases," Dawn said, the lies just rolling out. Yeah, she'd be an _awesome_ lawyer.

"So your sister, the accident prone bounty hunter that can 'take care of herself', needs someone to watch out for her?"

The suspicion was coming back, but Dawn was getting irritated now - mostly because her excuse was kind of flimsy when worded like that, but her patience only stretched so far. "What if some guy she took in decides to break in in the middle of the night and kill her?" _Oops, maybe not the best way to convince him to live there… __Time to wrap things up_. "Listen, you'll maybe fix a leaky pipe and take out the garbage. I doubt anything else will happen, but I'd feel better if someone else was there. It's an easy gig. I want someone to watch out for my sister. You need a new place to live. Seemed like a fit. If you're going to whine about it, I'll find someone else."

She turned to go, hoping she'd interested him enough to stop her. She got to Celia, who was looking at her half in amazement, half in horror, when Sam called out.

"Wait! I'll, uh… okay, I'll do it."

_. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Two**

Sam sat quietly in Dawn's Honda Civic as they rolled down the suburban street while Dawn went on about how it would be an easy commute to campus. Close enough for him to ride a bike if he wanted, she said. Then she even offered to leave her car for him. Sam mentally shook his head at her thinly veiled desperation as he watched the setting sun tint the upper-class neighborhood with fading orange light.

Sam had been around his dad and brother enough to know a con when he saw one. He wasn't sure yet whether Dawn Summers was outright lying to him or if she was playing him or if she just had an agenda of her own, but the sad fact of the matter was that it didn't matter - he was currently homeless.

If he got reported by _another_ roommate, he wasn't sure what would happen. It wouldn't be pretty though, he was sure. Not after Les had thrown such a fit over the salt first year (after long hours of studying, Sam would just fall into habit before he stumbled to bed, automatically salting the doorways and windows). Then Jackson in the second year… That had been bad. There'd been a restless spirit focusing on his roommate and Sam was having problems locating the bones, so he'd drawn protective wards around the room in order to try and keep the guy alive. Unfortunately, that left him vulnerable _outside_ the room and he was constantly harassed by the ghost, making him paranoid that Sam's symbols were putting the hoodoo on him. Both had complained to the RA and Sam had barely gotten out of it by pleading it was a religious family thing.

It seemed you could take the boy out of the freakishness, but not the freakishness out of the boy.

And now this. Jesus, he was an idiot. He'd kept his gun when he left home (or whatever crappy motel that was passing for it at the time), a 9mm that Dean had given him on his 16th birthday. Every other weapon he'd left behind, but he couldn't force himself to leave that gun. Dean had probably hustled pool behind their dad's back for a year to put back enough to afford it. It was the only thing he'd kept to remind him of his family.

He'd had the gun out, cleaning it while Josh was in class, when he realized how late it was, he had his own class to be getting to. Being in a hurry, he must not have made sure the lock box was completely latched when he put it away because later on, when Josh was looking for something his closet (he claimed it was notes but Sam had a feeling Josh thought he had weed stashed somewhere), he'd opened the box and freaked about the gun. Sam had tried to explain that it was a gift, sentimental value and all that. Josh had calmed down after his explanation, but had still kicked Sam to the curb.

So, this situation was actually the perfect fix. He'd still technically be listed as Josh's roommate, so no problems with Stanford Housing (again), and he'd have a place close by to live.

Or it _would_ be perfect if only he actually knew what he was getting into…

Dawn Summers was… strange. Beautiful and obviously smart, but to be honest, aside from the offer of a place to live, Sam could have done without meeting her - she was flat out insane. He was more worried about her sister having a sibling like Dawn, who offered to let strange guys live with her, than about the girl's bad luck. He wondered how many of the bad things that happened to Dawn's sister were because of her Dawn herself…

The car started to slow, pulling him out of his thoughts, and Dawn turned into a drive on the left. The house was beautiful. And far too large for just one person, too big for just two truth be told.

"My sister wanted some space," Dawn said, apparently noticing his appraisal of the house. "There were friends living us for a while at our last place. And then we took in some other people that needed help. It got a little crowded. I think she went kinda mental about sharing a bathroom, so she went a little overboard when she was picking this place out."

Yeah, no kidding. Two stories and a dark tan stucco, the front was loaded with windows and a wide front porch. The front yard was nicely manicured and had a few large, beautiful trees. It was hard to tell in the fading light, but Sam would guess it probably had about four or five bedrooms.

"Uh-oh," Dawn giggled, as she snuck a peek at the neighboring house, putting the car in park. Sam followed her gaze and saw the curtains slightly parted in the front window and the faintest hint of a face peering out. "Mrs. Stanowski's looking. Probably thinks you're here for the meth lab."

"The _what_?"

"Mrs. Stanowski's a little different and a lot nosey. She also doesn't like my sister much - always claiming she's up to something over here. She even called the cops once when the lights were flickering. It was just some short in the wiring, but she swore it was because Buffy was running a meth lab in the basement. The house doesn't even _have_ a basement."

Many things were going through Sam's mind at this declaration, but the thing that he got stuck on was…

"_Buffy_?"

"Don't pick on my sister's name," Dawn said, stopping mid-reach for the door handle and turning her gaze on him. Blue eyes that were filled with laughter before went flat and cold in a way that would have made Sam sweat had he not grown up the way he had. Still, he wasn't stupid.

"Sorry," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "It's just an unusual name."

She watched him a second longer before nodding, satisfied, and got out of the car. Sam followed and eyed the house again. There was a warm yellow light illuminating the white curtained windows and the front porch had a large swing on one side and two rocking chairs on the other. Looking down at the walkway, he noticed it was swept clean and the shrubs were perfectly trimmed. The grass also looked well manicured. Sam was just wondering about the landscape company that she must hire and the amount of money apparently in the bond business when Dawn started speaking again.

"Okay, you can't let her _know_ you're here to watch out for her," Dawn told him as they approached the house. "Just make it out like I'm doing you a favor, because you needed a place to live. She's the… bounty hunter after all, she'll never admit to needing someone around to watch out for her."

"So, I'm supposed to play the role of the sad homeless college student," Sam asked sardonically.

Dawn snickered, "I think you'll manage. I mean, it's not really a stretch, is it?"

Sam rolled his eyes, but nodded. He didn't like it, but after what Dawn had offhandedly said about the flickering lights and about thinking her sister was cursed, he wanted to be sure nothing supernatural was going on here. It could be nothing, probably was, but it really wasn't safe for her to be here all alone until he knew for sure.

Plus, he _really_ needed a place to live.

Dawn sifted through her keys and found the right one, putting it in the door while Sam examined the porch now that they were closer. It was… _nice_. He actually really liked it. A swing and rocking chairs seemed a little cheesy at first, but the porch looked over the beautiful yard with its big trees and across the street there were more trees in an empty lot. The street was quiet, probably only getting the little bit of residential traffic from her neighbors. He could actually see himself sitting out here with book or something…

Dawn clicked the heavy deadbolt back and pushed the front door open, yelling in a loud obnoxious voice as she did, "BUFFY! YOU HERE?"

Sam cringed away from her as her voice echoed down the previously peaceful street. Maybe Buffy had been expecting Dawn to live with her when she moved here, but he was sure her neighbors were grateful her sister only made the occasional visit. Shaking his head, he followed her into the entrance. It was immediately obvious to him that no one was home. Knowing if a house was empty or not was a skill acquired from being raised to do a lot of breaking and entering.

"Crap, where is she?" Dawn muttered with a pout when no one answered her call.

The entry was immaculate and uncluttered. There was a table off to the side that was empty except for a small stack of mail addressed to Dawn, which she quickly snatched up and sifted through before tossing back down. There was a stand with an umbrella in it right next to the door and what Sam guessed was a coat closet to the right, but that was it. The tiled floor gleamed and there wasn't a speck of dirt or dust anywhere. He was starting to see a pattern here…

Dawn was looking around, shaking her head. "Buffy's had too much time on her hands lately," she said in disgust. "Since she cut back on the… bounty hunting, she hasn't really known what to do with herself. She cleans the house and works in the yard and tries to bake. Buffy should be _banned_ from the kitchen, I've never seen someone do something over and over and _never_ get better at it. _DO NOT_ eat her cooking unless you want botulism."

Dawn led him through the house, and sure enough, everything was spotless. The furniture was all new, large and plush, the carpet was thick and the walls freshly painted. It would easily be the nicest place Sam had ever lived. Walking through the large gourmet kitchen, black appliances and marble countertops gleamed back at them, but Dawn bypassed them all for the door on the far side. Pulling it open, Sam could hear the echo in the empty space beyond and knew immediately it was the garage he'd spotted when they'd pulled up.

"Yep, she's gone," Dawn sighed, pulling out her phone muttering. "Dammit, where is she?"

Sam wandered over to the fridge, the only place he'd seen anything personal in the house so far - pictures cluttered the front. Dawn was scattered throughout the photos as were numerous other people. A cute little redhead with a sweet smile, a dark haired guy with an eye patch (must be another bounty hunter…), an older guy with graying hair and glasses - their dad maybe? But it was the blond that caught his attention, short and cute, she was smiling in a close up picture with Dawn, but something about her eyes… they looked old, like she'd seen too much. Actually, now that he'd picked up on it, they all looked a little like that, the blond just more so.

"Our old house was destroyed," Dawn said coming up next to him. "We only have pictures from the last year…"

She sounded really sad about that, a different side to the loud, cocky girl he'd met earlier today. Noticing his assessment, he shrugged, trying to fit her face into a nonchalant mask and failing.

"My mom, she died a few years ago and we don't have any pictures of her. There were also a few friends we lost. I wish…" Her voice faded and she shook her head. "Anyway, we kinda go crazy with the picture taking now. This is Buffy," she said, pointing, her voice stronger.

So that was Buffy… the blond with the sad eyes… She didn't look anything like her sister. Dawn was tall, brunette and blue eyed, while Buffy was short, blond and green eyed. Neither one of them looked like the guy with the glasses.

Dawn went on, giving a rambling commentary of who was in the pictures - Willow, the redhead, Xander, the guy with the eye patch and Giles, the guy with the glasses, were in the most along with Buffy and Dawn. Dawn explained how Willow and Xander helped with the bounty hunting in the early days and Giles was kind of Buffy's mentor, taught her all she needed to know about it. Dawn made it out like Buffy had taken the job on after their mom died to make ends meet, but Sam got the feeling she wasn't telling the whole truth there. She told him about how Giles and Buffy ran their own bonding company now and Willow and Xander helped with it. It had grown to the point where they had enough bond enforcement agents that those three could stick mostly to the paperwork end of things and Buffy could spend her time here in Palo Alto.

"Buffy wanted a chance at a normal life," Dawn said, something bitter in her words that made Sam turn his gaze on her. "That's why she came here, trying to live some apple pie life with me."

Sam's breath caught at that particular phrase and he swallowed hard. She'd lived a crazy life and wanted something normal…

"What's wrong with that," he bit out. Dawn blinked and turned away from where she'd been studying the pictures to look at him. "What's wrong with her wanting a normal life?"

"Because she's driving me _crazy_!" Dawn burst out. "Buffy wasn't meant to be Susie Homemaker! She doesn't belong here and she's trying too hard to make herself fit!"

Dawn's words hit him like a punch to the stomach and he felt an anger that only his dad had been able to pull out of him.

"So she wants something new? A life that's not all about hunting- criminals? A life like everybody else has? Who the hell are you to tell her she doesn't fit?"

Instead of firing back like he expected her too, Dawn went silent and eyed him shrewdly before muttering, "Wow, over identify much?"

Sam flushed and turned away, trying compose himself. Her words had brought back too many memories of that last fight with his dad. The way he claimed Sam was deluding himself, thinking he could live like other people - in the dark, ignorant, pretending the bump in the night was really just the house settling. And most of all he was pissed because he'd been here three years, _three years_, and he _still_ hadn't been able to accomplish that.

"Well, at least you two will get along," she said dryly, walking out of the kitchen. "Come on, I'll give you the tour while we wait. I tried calling, but she didn't answer. If she was planning on going out of town for the night she would have left me a message, so I'm sure she'll show up eventually."

Sam felt himself calm down as Dawn showed him around. His anger draining away and being replaced by curiosity as they went on their tour. The house was filled with muted colors and fluffy furniture, four bedrooms and a home office upstairs (which Dawn told him to stay out of), she also pointed out which room was Buffy's but told him he could have his pick of the other three. Each room had their own personal bathroom, making him smile as he remembered Dawn talking about how sharing a bathroom had made her sister crazy. Back downstairs there was another bathroom, the living room, which he'd already seen, a formal dining room with a table to seat six, and a huge workout room that had his jaw falling open.

"There used to be another room and a den down here, but Buffy had them combined for this," Dawn said, sounding approving for once.

The plush carpeting in the rest of the house was absent here, or at least hidden by the thick mats that covered the floor. The room was pretty much empty, except for a heavy bag hanging to the left. It was the first thing he'd seen in the house beside the pictures that had any character. Battered and worn, he wondered if it had been new, like everything else, when she moved in.

The emptiness was a little strange though - didn't most California girls obsessed with fitness have treadmills and stair-climbers and other stuff like that? He'd opened his mouth to ask when they heard the front door open. Dawn turned and grabbed his sleeve, snapping off the light and pulling him behind her toward the entrance. In the brief glance he got of her face before she hurried ahead, he could see apprehension. It made him feel a little better that he wasn't the only one nervous about letting Buffy in on the fact he'd be _living_ here.

God, what was he _doing_?

As they approached the foyer, he could hear soft, angry muttering.

"…so gonna stain… in my _hair_… never gonna come out…"

"Oh crap," Dawn breathed, stopping when she reached the entryway. Sam, a good half a foot taller than her, easily looked over her head.

Buffy stood frozen on one foot, the other in the air as her hands had stopped mid-motion of pulling her shoe off. Wide green eyes stared at them like a deer caught in the headlights. Oh, and she was covered head to toe in some kind of muddy slime.

Dawn let out a long suffering sigh and shook her head, "Buffy… what the hell?"

Buffy blinked at her sister and then her eyes traveled up to Sam. He had to fight not to smile at the look on her face - she was even cuter than her pictures. She must have seen the amusement on his face and thought he was laughing at her though, because her shocked look melted into one of embarrassment and she dropped her eyes and resumed pulling off her other shoe. Feeling guilty, Sam opened his mouth to say something nice, anything to wipe that mortified expression off her face, but Dawn cut him off.

"Must have been after an FTA? Right Buffy?"

So busy watching a hunk of slime slide out of Buffy's hair, Sam took her confused "A huh?" for an affirmative "Uh-huh".

"Yep, gets messy when you're chasing after those criminals," Dawn said, over enunciating her words oddly. "I know we weren't going to tell people about you being a bounty hunter, but Sam here's a special case."

When Sam pulled his eyes away from the hypnotizing sight of the sludge spreading on the tile, Buffy's mortified look had melted into confusion and was now morphing into furious understanding. "Right," she bit out through clenched teeth. "I'm a bounty hunter. And you told… Sam, was it? About that?"

Buffy was giving her sister a death glare that made Sam want to step away from Dawn, not wanting to get any residual anger on him that was aimed at her. He guessed Buffy didn't want people to know what she did, probably because it didn't really fit into the nice suburban Palo Alto life she was aiming for here. He could understand that only too well.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped around Dawn, giving Buffy his brightest smile.

"Hi, I'm Sam Winchester."

Buffy stared up at him and then looked down and his extended hand, then her gaze went to her own hand which was covered in some kind of brown goop. A faint smile pulled at the corners of her lips and her eyes softened - she really was prettier in person than in those pictures. Even under all the crap.

"How about we save the hand shaking, Sam," she said. "I don't want to contaminate anyone else."

Sam huffed out a small laugh, "Yeah, looks like you found a little trouble. What exactly _is_ that?" He leaned closer, curious about the weird slimy strings sliding off her onto the previously immaculate entry floor. "Might be radioactive, what if you end up with superpowers or something?"

His eyes met hers again, smiling and still reaching for innocent and charming, completely non-threatening. Buffy was looking back at him with wide eyes that made him wonder if he'd inadvertently made a wrong move, then she broke out laughing.

"Right, superpowers! Wouldn't want that, huh?" She stepped back and went to work pulling off her other shoe. "So, is Sam your new boyfriend, Dawn?"

"No," Sam blurted out, a little louder and more forcefully than he intended. He cringed a little at his rudeness, but it couldn't be helped. The thought of having Dawn as his girlfriend was… well, horrifying.

Dawn pouted and crossed her arms, while Buffy looked like she was caught between laughing and being offended on her sister's behalf.

"I mean, I'm not-"

"He's going to live here," Dawn cut in, minus even a trace of tact.

"I'm sorry," Buffy said, shaking her head and sending another blob of slime splattering onto the ground. "I thought you said this guy was going to be _living here_."

"He is. His roommate's a huge asshole and he can't stay there anymore," Dawn said, bending the truth easily. "I told him he could stay here."

"Dawn, you can't just-"

"You said it was my room, right?" Dawn interrupted, putting her hands on her hips. "That I could use it any time I wanted? Well, I want to use it now - to let Sam live in."

Buffy gaped at Dawn's bizarre reasoning and Sam had to force himself not to do the same, he just concentrated on looking not huge and scary - just a pathetic homeless college student. As he watched them, he realized there actually was a family resemblance he hadn't noticed when he saw the pictures, he could see it now - they both had the exact same pissy look.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Three**

"Sam, could you give us a minute," Buffy said tiredly.

Sam nodded and stepped past her and out the front door without a word. He seemed nice enough and Buffy really did feel bad for him - she knew what it was like first hand to have a horrible dorm-mate - but just the thought of playing secret identity girl in close quarters wore her out. And a bounty hunter? What the hell?

Urg, she needed some ice cream…

"Dawn…"

"I know it's kinda weird," Dawn said in that tone that Buffy knew all too well, the one that said, 'get ready to be persuded'.

"Um, understatement," Buffy muttered.

"But he doesn't have anywhere else to go," Dawn went on like Buffy hadn't spoken. A common occurrence. "And I've known Sam for ages, you don't have to worry about a thing. Really nice, polite, clean. Great guy. But hey, you decide he's a pain in the ass, just kick him out. He's just a college guy and you're the freakin' Slayer. No big."

Buffy wanted to point out that Dawn had only been in Stanford three months, hardly enough time to know someone for "ages", but she just was too tired to argue with her. One had to have a full stock of energy in place to argue with Dawn and Buffy was running on empty.

"Fine, whatever. Keep him outside for a minute," she said, pulling off her slimy clothes and letting them plop down on the tiled floor. "Then get him situated. I'm going for a shower."

Dawn gave Buffy a huge smile, the one that showed her happiness in winning, one that Buffy saw far too often.

"I'll have all the info for you on being a bounty hunter tomorrow. Sam's pretty sharp, you'll have to know your stuff. I'll even talk to Giles about actually getting you licensed, too. Maybe get you some actual cases, just for you to have around and look legit. You know, I was thinking that all the Slayers should get registered as bounty hunters. Just think of all legal cover that would give them. Anything weird they got caught doing, they could just say they were after an FTA. That's a failure to appear, by the way. Also known as a skip. I looked up all kinds of stuff on bounty hunting in the library and online today. Okay, go get clean. I'll get Sam," Dawn said making a shooing gesture at Buffy. She probably would have shoved her if she weren't covered in ick.

Buffy stumbled up the stairs obediently, mind still whirring at all the verbal diarrhea her sister had just dumped on her. Now she knew why Giles was always so tired looking after one of her ramble-fests. She thought it was just because he was old.

Oh God, was she getting old?

Not able to handle that thought, Buffy viciously pushed it from her mind and locked herself in her bathroom. She took a long hot shower first, scrubbing away all the grossness, then filled the tub and soaked. She tried to empty her mind of everything that was going on, but it was hard with her Slayer hearing picking up on Dawn and Sam wandering around.

This day… it was just one thing after another. First the cookies she tried to make this morning somehow made the house smell like fish, so she spent hours cleaning and deodorizing. Then, when she went out to check the mail, she noticed it was kind of cool out and wondered if Dawn had taken any sweaters with her to her dorm room. Thinking she might be able to catch her before her next class, she'd grabbed one from her own closet and rushed out. Only to get stopped over and over because of some stupid bike race. It seemed like every way she turned there they were - 800 bicyclists blocking every road she wanted to be on. By the time she got to the school, Dawn was already in her class. Buffy would have left the sweater and a note in her dorm room if she could've remember where it was. In fact, she couldn't even really remember what it was called. All that kept popping in her head was Floam, and there was no way she was going to embarrass herself by asking for the Floam dorm, like some idiot.

By that time it was like a challenge, like something was trying to stop her from getting that sweater to her sister and she'd be damned if it was going to win. So, knowing about where Dawn's class was that time of day (she remembered her sister saying she hated having to go all the way across campus to get to the library afterwards and how she wondered if she could get Giles to spring for one of those Segways) she'd found the right building and proceeded to peek in each room until she spotted Dawn. It wasn't until she saw the look on her sisters face that she realized she maybe hadn't thought that through so much. But hey, she's young and cute too, just bringing her sis a sweater shouldn't have embarrassed her too bad. She hoped. It's not like she's mom or something.

And that was the problem, actually. She wasn't mom. She'd been a terrible substitute from day one and the following years had been just as bad if not worse. She knew what Dawn thought - that she just wanted a normal life, but that wasn't really it. The whole normal life she'd wanted when she was younger was something she'd given up on over time. She was who she was and she'd finally accepted that. The reason she was striving for normalcy here in Palo Alto was for Dawn. She felt like she had a lot to make up for in regards to her sister, she wasn't exactly the ideal caretaker after her mom died. Hell, she was dead herself for a few months and a robot was doing her job (better than her, she was sure) and then she was manic-depressive girl for the year after that. Then there were all the Potentials and the First, followed by trying to get the new Council up in running in Scotland. It didn't leave much time for Dawn. Her mom would be so disappointed in her...

But now she had a chance to change that, to do things right, to be the big sister that she was supposed to. Someone who loved Dawn unconditionally and would be there for her no matter what - check. A loving home that she could come to any time - check. A family member that was reliable and trusted - uh… she was still working on that. Two outta three ain't bad.

So, back to the day of badness. After dropping of the sweater she'd gotten a call from Giles. Some demon (a Snackyflack or something) had a nest down by the water treatment plant in San Jose and he wanted her to go do the Slay thing. She gave an "okey dokey" and headed out of town, looking forward to kicking the crap out of something to take her still simmering road rage from those bikers out on.

Giles had conveniently forgotten to mention that it projectile vomited slime.

She cringed thinking about how hard it was going to be to clean out her car. She'd entertained the thought of just setting it on fire and calling Giles for a new one while she drove home, but decided to stop being a baby. She had to clean the slime of her body and out of her hair, and that was way worse. And that's what she'd had in mind when she'd pulled up, a nice hot shower or three. She'd been pleasantly surprised when she'd noticed Dawn's car in the driveway, but was more focused on some soapy goodness at that moment than anything else.

And now this. Dawn had brought home some strange guy and announced he'd be living there. Not Dawn. Sam. Sam would be living there. Not to mention she'd failed _again_ at proving she could do normal for Dawn. She'd managed to embarrass both herself and her sister by being seen looking like the loser at a mud wrestling match.

Buffy sighed and slid under the water, watching the distorted watery ceiling from the bottom of the tub as if it would reveal the answers to all her problems. Finally, when her lungs were about to burst, she gave up her hope that the ceiling would suddenly turn into a magic eight ball and surfaced. Now that she was scrubbed clean she felt better, more optimist. It's amazing how much being covered in demon vomit could bring down a person's view on the world.

She could do this. What was she so worried about? She'd fooled her mom for years and she was someone that actually _cared_ about what was going on with Buffy. Sam had no reason to be interested. As long as she kept the weapons room locked, Council paperwork hidden, avoided any more Slimer impersonations and didn't bring any demons home, she should be fine. And it wasn't like he'd be staying there forever. She was sure it wouldn't take him long to find a new place to live.

Feeling more like herself and less like something had chewed on her and spit her out, she climbed out of the tub and pulled on a pair of sleep pants and a cami. Looking at herself in the mirror, she had a sudden flashback to Sam's dimples and decided it was better not to look like Medusa in front of her new houseguest. She ran a brush through her hair and blow dried it a little. Then dabbed a little lip gloss on. She was reaching for the mascara when she mentally slapped herself. What was she doing? He'd seen her covered in demon vomit, she was already vastly improved. And if he was going to be living here, he'd see Scary-Morning-Buffy, so it was better not to let him think she looked fantastic all the time. The shock might kill him.

On her way through her room, she grabbed a zippered hoodie and tugged it on, feeling a little modest. Bolstering herself into being a polite hostess, she went downstairs to find Sam and Dawn standing in the ick splattered entryway. She should clean that up soon… Or maybe tomorrow…

"Leaving?" She asked, making her voice just slightly curious and squashing down the moment of panic she had when she realized Dawn was about to leave her there alone with strange dimpley guy.

"Yep, Sam's all set up in his room," Dawn said, beaming at Buffy before turning to Sam. "I need my car tomorrow, but I'll have Celia follow me over Sunday and drop it off for the week in case you need it."

"That's really not-"

"It's fine," Dawn said, still beaming.

Sam shoulders were rolled forward and his hands were stuffed in his pockets. As bad as it sounded, his awkwardness made Buffy feel a little better - she was getting the feeling that she wasn't the only one blindsided with this. Then there was the way Dawn kept smiling… it was making her nervous. And suspicious. Was she really this happy just because she'd gotten her way? Or was there something else going on…

As if some sixth sense that alerted her to Buffy's inkling that something was off kicked in, Dawn spun toward the door. "Okay! I'm off!" She called, giving a little wave. She paused with her hand on the knob for a second before shooting one last glance at Sam over her shoulder. It was as if she was just now realizing she was leaving a some guy she probably barely knew with her sister and was suddenly a little reluctant to leave. Buffy repressed a snort. That was Dawn - gets what she wants and then realizes maybe it's not such a good thing.

"If you try anything, they'll never find all your pieces," Dawn said, making Sam's eyes widen and Buffy cover her mouth to hold in a laugh. Then she smiled again and waved before flitting out the door. They both stared at it for a moment before Sam turned slowly to look at Buffy, his eyes still a little dazed - Dawn had that effect on people.

"Your sisters a little…"

"Don't try to find the word. There isn't one," Buffy said, feeling a little bad for him all of the sudden. "Did you actually want to live here or is it something Dawn talked you into?"

"Uh, well… it all happened so fast," he said, running a hand through his hair. "But, I really do need a place to live. What about you? Is it really okay that I'm here or did Dawn just talk you into it?"

"It was more one of those 'pick your battles' thingies," Buffy said with a half grin.

He looked back at her and she could actually see some of the tension leak out of him. He nodded and smiled again, the dimples coming out in full force. Buffy's heart tripped a little and she spun toward the kitchen.

_Crap… dimples… must resist…_

"Hungry?" She asked, forcing herself to not sound swoony.

"Uh, no…"

Buffy stopped in the door way and looked over her shoulder, sighing when he looked everywhere but at her.

"It's left over pizza," she said rolling her eyes. "I didn't cook it so no need to go running for the hills."

Confirming her hunch that Dawn had pasted a warning label on any Buffy cooking, Sam winced and his cheeks turned a little pink in a way that was just too cute for words.

_Oh no, bad Buffy. Bad._

There would be _none _of that. She was in Palo Alto for Dawn, not guys. She'd spent enough of her time wrapped up in her love life instead of being there for Dawn. She wasn't making that mistake again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Four**

Sam trailed after Buffy into the kitchen, seating himself on a stool at the island while Buffy went to the refrigerator and pulled out the left over pizza. He supposed it should be more awkward now that Dawn was gone to act as a buffer, but truth was she made him uncomfortable. He'd just met Buffy and he was already more at ease around her than her sister.

"Didn't I have breadsticks somewhere," Buffy was mumbling as she pulled open the oven.

A noxious smell that reminded Sam of rotten fish and decomposing bodies wafted out and she quickly slammed it shut again.

"Whoops, forgot about in there…"

"Forgot what? A corpse?" Sam said, gagging a little as Buffy flicked on the fan over the stove and pulled two plates down out of the cabinet above her.

"Cookie mishap," she muttered, looking embarrassed as she popped the microwave open and stuck a couple pieces of pizza in.

That clenched it. Only someone that was cursed could do _that_ to a batch of cookies. He'd have to search the house for hex bags. Particularly the kitchen.

"So," he coughed and changed the subject. "What's bounty hunting like? You were chasing someone tonight?"

"Uhh…"

Buffy shifted on her feet, her eyes watching the microwave tick down instead of meeting his gaze. It was obviously a topic she wasn't comfortable talking about.

"Hey, no judgment here," he said, holding up his hands up. He really was just curious. "From what Dawn said, I guessed you didn't really want it advertised what you do. I know some of the people around her can be a little…"

"Snobbish? Uppity? Cordelia-esqe? Yeah, I noticed that, too," Buffy said, with a glance at him and a tight smile.

Refraining from asking what a Cordelia was, Sam went on. "I just want you to know that I don't think you have anything to be ashamed of. You do something good, keeping bad guys off the streets. Screw them if they don't get that."

"Uh, yeah," Buffy said, turning toward the fridge and grabbing a couple Cokes. "It's not really that _I_ care, I mean, I used to. For a long time all I wanted was to be normal and fit in. But being outcast girl doesn't really bother me any more. Dawn's had to live with that for too long, though. It's not fair for her to lug it around, too. Things at our house after our mom died were a little… unstable. I wasn't around much and when I was I was preoccupied. I want her college years to be good. Better. The best. She deserves it. I want to do the family thing, you know? Without people going on about her freak of a sister. And I don't know why I'm telling you all this…"

Sam forced a smile for her, trying to ease her embarrassment over the personal ramble. But on the inside he couldn't help the little bubble of bitterness that oozed up. What he would have given for _his_ family to have that view…

"So, what about your family?" Buffy asked as if knowing the path his thoughts had taken. She slid his pizza and drink across the counter to him and leaned against the island. "Are they an embarrassment to you like I am for Dawn?"

The question was good natured, but he could hear the underlying sadness in it and it made him feel like a huge asshole. He shook his head slowly, "No, it's not that I'm _embarrassed_ by them. It's more that we're just… really different. Like night and day. What I want and what they want just don't mix. When I decided I wanted to come here… it wasn't pretty."

Buffy gave him a sympathetic look and took a bite of her pizza. "They wanted something different for you?"

Nodding, Sam took a bite of his own slice. It was really good. No botulism there. He hoped.

"My dad and brother work with their hands… hard labor, kind of. But it's a family business thing. They expected me to stay and work with them, but… I wanted something…"

"More?"

Sam shook his head, it wasn't that he wanted _more_, it was that he wanted something… "Different."

"I know what that's like," Buffy said, already working her way into her crust. "Having to chose between the life you want and the life that's expected of you."

Sam gave her a grin and smirked, "Not everyone was happy about the bounty hunter gig, huh?"

Buffy snorted, "Believe it or not, some people thought that the bounty hunting was _all_ I should be doing. That I shouldn't be thinking about guys or school or other stuff like that. I mean, I'm really good at it. Like I was meant to do it. So I guess they thought, why bother with the other stuff when I'd found my calling? Point is, I know what it's like to want one kind of life and have another expected of you. Everyone telling you you have to choose, that you can't have both."

Sam was staring at her with raised eyebrows, his pizza halfway to his mouth. He lowered it back to the plate and looked down at it, pulling his eyes away from Buffy's green gaze that seemed to know too much. How weird was it that the people she knew would rather her be a _bounty hunter_ than to live a normal life. But wasn't he just the same? Didn't his dad and brother want him to live the insanely dangerous life of a hunter instead of coming here?

Sam glanced up from studying his pizza, peering at Buffy from under his lashes as she stood to pop a few more pieces in the microwave. He'd just met her, but… it didn't feel like that. The more he talked to her, the more he felt that she really _did_ know exactly how he felt. It relieved him. For the last few years at Stanford, he'd enjoyed himself, but he'd always felt… different. Alone. How many kids there could say they'd been ostracized from their family because they chose to go to a prestigious school like Stanford? _Who ostracized who?_ A little voice asked in the back of his mind. He shoved it away quickly. The point was, his and Buffy's situations were different, but also the same. And he got the feeling she really understood how it felt to be pulled between two lives.

"You don't have to, you know," she said, turning back to look at him from where she'd been standing watching the pizza rotate in the microwave. "You don't have to choose. I'm proof. It's not easy, but it's possible. I may never be the most disciplined… bounty hunter, or the most normal girl, but I live in both worlds. And when the two worlds are pulling you apart, you know what you do? You dig in even harder. You tell the Powers That Be that be to suck it. You have your cake and you eat it too."

Buffy stood leaning against the counter while she gave her little speech, her arms crossed and eyes hard. There was a certain power to her right then and he could suddenly see beyond the small blond girl to the one that used that heavy bag and went after fugitives.

"And anyone who takes your fork gets their ass kicked?" He asked, giving her a smile.

"Now you're getting it," she answered with a wink as the microwave dinged behind her.

"So, what was going on with all that slime? Looked like something big and nasty puked on you," he said, looking to lighten the topic of conversation but also really wanting to hear the story behind it. He loved his life at Stanford, but sometimes it was so… mundane. Especially compared to the life of a hunter. He wanted a little action even if it was vicariously through someone else.

And that sounded off even in his own head…

His attention was snapped back to Buffy as he heard a sharp crack. Looking at her hand, he saw that the handle of the microwave had broken off in her grip. The door hung for a second before it started to fall to the floor. Sam dove forward over the island, stretching his arm out and wrapping his fingers in Buffy's hoodie. He jerked her back so that she bumped into the island, then wrapped his hands around her waist and hoisted her up just as the microwave door crashed into the floor where her manicured feet had been just a second before.

They both stared in silence for a second, the only sound that of the Coke he'd knocked over dripping off the side of the counter and onto the floor.

"Nice reflexes," Buffy breathed, sitting on top of the island and looking at mess that used to be the microwave door. "My little piggies are thankful."

"Your little piggies are welcome," Sam said from his spot beside her. His body was still sprawled across the counter top and his hands were still on her waist while he looked at the mess on the floor too, her elbow brushing the top of his head and his own in a piece of pizza. He should have been thinking about curses and how lucky it was that he was there, but instead all he could think about was how _good_ she smelled and how soft that piece of skin was that his thumb was resting on where her shirt had ridden up.

"They just don't make stuff like they used to, huh?" Buffy said with an awkward laugh, drawing him out of his stupor.

He drew away from her quickly and slid back to his feet, grabbing a napkin and wiping at his elbow while determinedly not looking at her. He'd made her uncomfortable, he could tell. The kind of strangled tone of voice, the tension in her shoulders… God, he was such an idiot. First night in her house and he's sniffing her like some pervert. Determined to fix any damage he might have done, he walked around the island and grabbed the pizza from the now doorless microwave.

"Here, you eat, I'll clean this up," he said.

She just blinked at him for a second, like she didn't understand what he'd said, then slowly relaxed and took the offered plate.

"Wow, you save toes, clean and let me have the last of the pizza? Anything you don't do?"

"Windows," he said with a half smile, relieved he hadn't screwed thing up irreparably already.

It didn't take any time to clean up the microwave door and the broken pieces it left behind. Sam inspected the door and it looked like the connections for the handle had cleanly snapped and the door hinge actually looked bent. He guessed it could be a defect in the way it was made, but… it was definitely too weird to be written off. He'd have to look closer at the microwave and the kitchen in general as soon as he got a chance.

While he took the door out to the trash, Buffy cleaned up the spilt Coke and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Soon they were awkwardly standing in the upstairs hall together, both trying to look unruffled and failing.

"Uh, well… I guess I'm off to bed," Buffy said, twisting the hem of the hoodie in her fingers. "There's extra towels and blankets and stuff here in the hall closet if you need any…"

"Thanks," Sam said. "And thanks for letting me stay here. I know this whole thing's a little…"

"Of the weird? Wiggy? Bizzaro-land?"

"You do have a way with words," he said, relaxing a little and giving her a grin. "But seriously, thanks."

Buffy shrugged, "No prob. Let me know if you need anything."

And with that she disappeared into the room down the hall leaving Sam by himself. Part of him that sounded suspiciously like Dean was leering about _"needs_", but Sam smothered it with a mental pillow. Yes, Buffy seemed pretty amazing, but he wasn't about to ruin his new housing arrangements by making a move on her. His Dean sounding libido would just have to deal with it.

Shaking his head, he went into his new room. It was easily bigger than the dorm room he'd shared with Josh and decorated in light tans and whites. A small writing desk sat by the window and a cushy chair sat in the opposite corner. His few boxes of belongings sat in front of a dresser. The huge bed was calling his name (an actual bed that he'd _fit _on! No feet hanging over or arms dangling off the sides!) but he pulled out his laptop instead and sat himself in the chair. He'd intended to look up curses, but found himself looking up bounty hunter info instead.

Unbeknownst to him, Buffy sat in a position mirroring his own in her room doing the exact same thing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Five**

Sam closed his eyes, blocking out the text book in his lap as a soft breeze drifted over the porch. This was _definitely_ better than living on campus. Studying in a dorm had been a lesson in patience and, although it was something he'd adjusted to over the years, it was something he was more than happy to get away from. The only thing ruining it was the fact that it was Sunday and he knew that meant Dawn would be here sometime today. And he'd be facing her alone, not something he was looking forward to. She'd stopped in early on Saturday morning, he'd heard her voice all the way upstairs where he'd been nestled in his bed, but had decided he'd had enough Dawn lately, and rolled over and went back to sleep.

The rest of Saturday had passed without incident. Sam had slept wonderfully in his new room and woken again later to find Buffy in old scrubby clothes and elbow length rubber gloves cleaning the foyer. After that he'd sporadically seen her cleaning various parts of the house and then out in the yard throughout the day. He'd asked if there was anything he could do to help, but she'd just smiled and said she had it covered.

At first it was a little awkward, the two almost strangers sharing space, but as the day progressed it had gotten more comfortable when they ran into each other. They'd ordered subs from a nearby place for lunch and Sam had cooked dinner, earning himself equal parts dewy eyed hero worship and jealousy - it was cute and he hadn't been able to stop himself from teasing her a little. They'd eaten dinner together making easy small talk, maybe not like old friends, but like good acquaintances. But then she'd gotten a call. He had no idea who it was or what it was about, because she left the room to take it, but by her serious expression when she came back, he guessed it was about her work. Telling him she had to go out of town for a few days, she made sure he had a spare key, packed her bags, and left without any explanation. And even though he wanted one, Sam didn't feel that a day and a half of knowing each other allowed him to ask about it.

He just hoped wherever she was, she was alright.

This morning he'd spent a little time searching the kitchen for hex bags and examining the remains of the old microwave. So far he hadn't found anything, but he'd only given it a cursory inspection since he knew Dawn was coming over and didn't want her to find him ransacking her sister's house after only a day of living there. He'd get back to it after she was gone.

"Well aren't you just a handsome thing," a squeaky old voice said, making his eyes snap open. There, laboring her way slowly up the three stairs to the porch, was an ancient old lady with faintly purple hair. "And a smart one, too," she wheezed, nodding at his book.

Remembering his manners, Sam jumped up to help the woman onto the porch and got her settled in a rocking chair. She was wearing a floral print ankle length dress and a pair of slippers. Her arm felt like a twig wrapped in tissue paper under Sam's hand, making him feel even more large and cumbersome than usual.

"And polite, don't that beat all," she said, leaning back in the chair with a sigh.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Sam asked. This must be one of the neighbors since a car hadn't pulled up, he was just hoping it wasn't the one he thought it was.

"Didn't see you leave with the younger one the other night and I saw Buffy leave yesterday, so I thought I'd come over and check on you, make sure everything was alright. I'm Mrs. Stanowski, I live next door."

Crap.

"Well, that's very nice of you, Mrs. Stanowski," Sam said, pulling out smile that he kept purely for taking in old ladies - the one his brother had taught him. "I'm Sam. Buffy's been nice enough to let me stay here for a little while."

"Oh dear, I do hate to do this, I'm really not a gossip, but now that I've met you… You're such a nice young man," she said, wringing her wrinkled hands together. "I think you should know about the girl that lives in this house."

"Well, that not really-"

"I think she goes to the orgies," Mrs. Stanowski whispered, leaning closer to Sam.

"The… orgies?" Sam asked, trying to keep from swallowing his own tongue.

"Mm-hmm, you don't think I'd know about these things, I can tell by your face. But I do. Heck if I was twenty years younger I might be there myself."

Sam personally thought that if Mrs. Stanowski was twenty years younger she'd still be a hundred and the _last_ thing in the world he wanted to picture was an orgy filled with old wrinkled up- okay, stopping there.

"Nothing wrong with a woman exploring her sexual side," she went on, making Sam want to pinch himself to see if he'd actually just fallen asleep on the porch and this was all just a nightmare. "But her coming back in the wee hours of the morning, covered in odd substances and walking strangely isn't what I'm concerned about. It's the drugs."

"Drugs?" He choked out.

"Mm-hmm, she comes back looking like walking death some days. After one of those, whatchacallit's… a bender, that's it. And some of the people that come and go from here are very suspicious characters. One of them had an eye patch. Only drug dealers and pirates wear eye patches, you know. And then there were those two girls that were kissing each other. Right here on this very porch! Lord, my heart almost stopped," she said, dramatically putting a hand to her chest and shaking her head, the sun glinting off her purple helmeted hair. "I tried to tell the police once about the goings on over here. There was a strange smell and the lights kept going on and off. I was sure she had one of those meth labs I saw on TV over here and was going to blow the whole neighborhood up. But the police just said it was a cooking accident. I don't believe it though, who can do that when by cooking?"

Sam was saved from replying by a car pulling up. Seeing who it was he retracted all the things he'd thought earlier - he couldn't have been more glad to see Dawn.

* * *

Dawn pulled into the driveway, immediately spotting Sam sitting on porch. He'd still been asleep yesterday when she'd come over. She'd have to talk to him about that, she wasn't paying him to sleep - well, she wasn't paying him at all, but that was beside the point. He was supposed to be hanging out with Buffy. Hopefully they got in some good quality time yesterday after he'd dragged himself out of bed.

Buffy seemed to like him though, so that was good. When Dawn had stopped over yesterday to drop off all the bounty hunting paperwork (Giles had actually loved the idea and was a huge help getting it together) she'd _gently_ probed her sister about her thoughts on her new roommate ("So, that Sam, he's wicked hot, right? You get a load of those dimples? It's like they appear and your clothes just wanna fall off. Did your clothes fall off?").

Buffy had sputtered and scowled and turned red, telling Dawn with her mouth that, no, her clothes stayed put and to stop being ridiculous, but her eyes and mannerisms told Dawn that naughty thoughts had been circling. That was enough for Dawn. For now anyway.

She'd been hoping to see them together today, check out first hand how things were going. But Giles had called Buffy last night, asking her to check out a possible Pandisidini demon over near Yosemite. It wasn't that far away, maybe three or four hours, but Giles hadn't had much information for Buffy to go on, so she said it might take a few days to find the thing. Dawn remembered seeing that demon in one of Giles' books, she hoped he'd warned Buffy about it shooting fire from it's eyeballs when it got agitated…

Getting out of the car, Dawn pulled out her phone as she made her way toward the porch, figuring she'd give Buffy a heads up just in case. But her intentions were lost in the wind when she caught sight of the purple hair also on the porch.

Oh no, it was Mrs. Stanowski! Sitting with Sam! Who knew what kind of crack-headed bull that woman was telling him!

Dawn hadn't seen her sitting there from the driveway, her tiny form swallowed by the rocking chair and blocked by the front porch railing. Normally she found the outrageous things the neighbor thought about Buffy pretty funny, but not when it could interfere with her plans. Putting her phone away, she picked up her pace until she reached the base of the porch stairs.

"Hi there Mrs. Stanowski!" Dawn said, giving her an ultra bright smile while anger bubbled just below the surface. "Telling my sister's friend what a drugged out whore she is?"

The old woman's mouth fell open and a hand flew to her mouth, "I would _never_-"

"Yeah, no one's buying it, grandma," Dawn said, putting her hands on her hips. "Hit the road jack and don't come back no more."

"Well, I never - young people today - no respect at all," she said, slowly standing and shaking her head.

Sam hurried to help the woman off the porch and muttered an awkward platitude about it being nice to have met her, which she ignored as she went shuffling back across the lawn to her own house.

"Should've kicked her boney ass down the steps."

"She would've broken a hip or something and then Buffy'd get sued," Sam said, his shocked look of earlier melting into amusement.

"Would've been worth it," she muttered flopping down on the swing. No way was she sitting on the old lady cootie infested rocking chair - she'd have to tell Buffy to disinfect it. "What lies was Mrs. Moses peddling this time?"

"Uh, well," Sam said rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably but also still smiling slightly as he sat down on the swing with Dawn. "She said that Buffy went on drug benders and that Xander was either a pirate or a drug dealer. Oh, and that Buffy went to 'the orgies' which she seemed kind of interested in attending, then complained about the lesbians that hang out over here in the next breath."

Dawn smacked her palm against her forehead but still couldn't stop the burst of laughter that popped out. Mrs. Stanowski certainly wasn't lacking in the creativity department.

"Well, I can tell you for sure that all of that's untrue except for the lesbian bit - Willow and her girlfriend have stopped by a couple times. I'll have to make sure they go over to meet the old bat next time they come over," Dawn said with an evil smirk. "Jeez, Xander's gonna be _thrilled_ when I tell him he gives the impression of someone as dangerous as a pirate or a drug dealer. Seriously. He'll eat that up."

Glancing over at Sam she was glad to see that he looked relaxed and amused. Good, because if Mrs. Stanowski's crap had made him run for the hills, Dawn would've had to do something really nasty involving Madagascar hissing cockroaches, dead fish and fireworks.

"So, besides the visit from the old lady that lived in the shoe, how are things going here?"

"Good," Sam nodded. "The house is really nice, the bed's comfortable-"

"So, what do you think of Buffy?" Dawn interrupted impatiently, wanting to get to the good stuff. "She's a hottie right? You see her ass? You could bounce a quarter off that thing."

Sam just looked at her openmouthed for a second before shaking his head. "I'm actually surprised you and Mrs. Stanowski don't get along better - you're so alike. You both just say the most inappropriate thing that pops into your mind."

"Dude, I'm _so_ not like the busybody of Babylon. She just makes crap up, I speak the truth. Well, mostly..."

Dawn was perfectly aware of her penchant for making people uncomfortable. It put her in a position of control. They were flustered - she was calm, she was the one with the power. Nothing wrong with that in her opinion.

"Dawn, she's your _sister_. You don't go pimping out her ass to strange men you just met."

"I wasn't 'pimping' it out, just asking if you'd noticed, making conversation, trying to find out what you thought of her. You can usually get the feel for a person's true thoughts when they're caught off guard. Like you, you turned kind of pink and your eyes shifted to the left. That tells me you totally noticed how hot my sister is and what a great ass she has."

"So I noticed your sister was attractive, I'd have to be blind not to," Sam sighed with a shrug, still faintly pink. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Nothing. Just asking," Dawn said with a smirk. Deciding to give him a break, she changed the subject. "Here's the keys to the car. There's a bike in the trunk if you feel like doing the green thing, if not, just stick it in the garage."

"Seriously, you can keep the car, Dawn. And I have a bike on campus I can use."

"Celia's coming to pick me up and I have class all week so I won't need it anyway. I'll be back for it on Friday though. I want it weekends…"

Her voice trailed off as an appliance truck pulled into the driveway behind her Civic.

"What'd she order now?" Dawn asked, watching the man climb out of the truck and go around to the back.

"New microwave, the other one broke."

"It broke? It was new with the house!"

"Yeah, it was pretty weird. The handle just snapped off when Buffy was pulling out some pizza Friday night, then the whole door fell off. Must have been defective."

"Right, defective…" Dawn said with a forced laugh while she mentally face-palmed. Sam's first night there and Buffy Hulked the microwave? What the hell?

Dawn was saved from talking about the microwave weirdness by the deliveryman. She signed for the box and Celia pulled up in her little white Smart car while Sam was taking it inside. Calling a goodbye to him, Dawn rushed out to the driveway.

Well, the bad news was that the micro incident was probably not the weirdest thing that was going to happen and that Mrs. Stanowski probably wasn't done being a pain in the ass. The good news was Sam seemed to be taking it all in stride. The _best _news was they both seemed attracted to one another. Things were looking up_. _


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Six**

Monday morning was going surprisingly well for Dawn. She'd expected more harassment about Friday's sweater incident, but so far there'd been nothing. It seemed like people had mostly forgotten about it or deemed it not important enough to keep talking about. While part of her bristled at the 'not important enough to talk about' thought, mostly she was just relieved.

Then her phone had to go and ring with her sisters name splashed across the front as she made her way to her next class. Maybe her classmates had dismissed Buffy's visit, but it seemed she wouldn't leave Dawn in peace so easily. Rolling her eyes and stopping by a tree out of earshot of any nosey gossipmongers (seriously, some people needed to mind their own business), she answered.

"I need you to come pick me up," Buffy's voice came over the line. "The Panini demon blew up my car."

"Your car was blown up by an Italian sandwich demon?" Dawn asked with a snicker.

"Maybe it was Pantini…"

"That sounds like a drink at a strip club. I think you mean Pandisidini."

"Yeah, that's it! Freakin' thing shot _fire_ out of its _eyes_!"

"Giles didn't tell you that?" Dawn asked, feeling a little worm of guilt creep in about forgetting to call Buffy about that. But she sounded fine, so no harm, no foul.

"No, he didn't tell me about the last demon and its nasty puke spraying either."

"Oh God, is _that_ what you were covered in?" Dawn's nose wrinkled remembering the slime. "I bet he's trying to force you into researching more."

"Probably. But that's _his_ job. He gets with the book stuff and I get with the killing stuff. Anyway, get your butt out here."

"Buffy, I have class in ten minutes!" Dawn complained, losing her amusement in the situation. "Call a cab!"

"I can't call a cab, I'm in the middle of nowhere. And even if they did come, what if they see my extra crispy car and think cops are a good idea?"

"Then walk to the closest town."

"Dawn…"

Buffy was losing her patience and even if Dawn was the Queen of getting her way, on the occasion when she wanted, Buffy could give her a run for her money. Not to mention she could be _really_ scary. Sighing in resignation, Dawn was about to give in when she remembered she didn't have her car either. That lead to the realization that Buffy wasn't her problem anymore. This was the perfect opportunity for her big, strong new housemate to come to the rescue. It would be upping the weirdness meter a couple notches, but if he could handle Mrs. Stanowski, he could handle a little car fire.

"Okay, give me directions," Dawn said, an evil smile on her face.

* * *

Buffy leaned back against a tree upwind from her destroyed car. She'd really like a nap, but she thought she might be concussion girl right then, so probably not the best idea. The old brainpan would be good as new by the time she got home though, she could wait. She'd gone around this whole park poking under every bush for that stupid demon for the last two days and nothing! Then she gives up, comes back to her car and there the stupid thing is. Like it was waiting for her, mocking her with it's tentacles and googly eyes. It got pretty pissed after she cut off one of its tentacles though, and that's when the fiery eyeballs came out. She still couldn't get over the fact the thing could shoot _fire_ from its _eyes_. If they hadn't been aimed at her, it would've been pretty cool.

After getting flung around a little by the tentacles, she finally killed it. Unfortunately her car was caught in the crossfire. An innocent victim in the fight between good and evil. She'd already called Giles about getting someone out there to take care of it (and she'd enjoyed his sputtering when she told him his negligent actions led to her car being destroyed and that now the Council would have to pay to get her a new one). Now she was sore, tired, thirsty, hungry, dirty, stranded and getting increasingly pissed as she waited on her sister to show. Finally giving up on the patience thing, she yanked her phone back out and called her.

"Dawn, where _are_ you?"

"Looking for my bag. The one with the black swirly designs on it. Did you take that?"

"No, but I wish I had. It's adorable," Buffy said with a wistful head tilt. "Wait, what? You haven't even _left_ yet?"

"I was going to, then I remembered I didn't have my car - I dropped it off for Sam yesterday. So I called him and he's on his way. It was a while ago actually, so he should be there any time now."

Buffy's mouth fell open, "You sent _Sam_? Sam's coming here? _Now_?"

"Yes, jeez, need me to repeat it in slow mo? It's no big, quit freaking out. And you're distracting me from my bag hunt, so I'm going now," Dawn said, her voice loaded with exasperation before the line disconnected.

Buffy stared at her silent phone in horror.

_Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap_

Swearing she could hear the sound of an engine coming up the beaten path where she'd been parked, Buffy jumped up and ran back to the charred car, trying to see herself in the melted mirror. Running a hand over her disheveled hair and trying to brush the dirt and twigs off her clothes at the same time. The mirror was useless, it made her look like a Picasso painting. And if she was honest with herself, trying not to look like road kill was also pretty useless.

The sound of the engine got closer and then there it was, Dawn's little silver Civic bouncing down the bumpy path. Buffy sighed and resigned herself to yet another embarrassing situation with her new houseguest. Thank god she'd taken the time to cover the melting demon carcass with branches and leaves... One look at his face as he jumped out of the car was enough to tell her that Dawn had left out the details when she'd sent Sam her place. His shocked face took in the wreckage of her car first then zeroed in on her as he rushed over.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

His hand reached out toward her face as he looked at her temple - his eyes intense, brows pulled together and mouth tight. She caught his hand with her own before it touched her face, wrapping her fingers around his wrist lightly and making his eyes jerk down to hers.

"I'm fine, really."

"You're bleeding," he pointed out, his voice calm but his jaw clenched.

"Nothing a hot shower, a few band-aids and a nap can't fix."

"Maybe I should take you to the hospital, just to be-"

"Sam, I'm alright. Seriously," she said, looking up at him.

Part of her was feeling warm at his concern the other part was saying that was fine, as long as it wasn't _too_ warm. Sam seemed to be studying her, gearing up for an argument, the he just deflated and nodded.

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I am."

Looking back at the car, Sam shook his head, then looked back at her. "You weren't _in_ the car when it caught on fire were you? Because you look a little rough around the edges."

"Gee thanks," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. Realizing she was still holding onto his wrist, she let go and covered her embarrassment by shoving him lightly when he grinned.

"So, what happened?"

Buffy blinked at him, her mind spinning but not going anywhere, like the feet on a cartoon character.

"Mice," she blurted out.

"Mice," Sam repeated dubiously, quirking an eyebrow.

"Mice that smoked?" She said, cringing at her own horrible recycled excuse.

Sam looked at her funny for a second and Buffy started to sweat, but then he just nodded, "Plausible deniability, I get it."

"Plausi-who?"

"Never saw a thing," he said with a wink as he turned back to the car. "Let's get going."

Buffy followed after, shaking her head - the guy was cute, but, man, was he weird.

They both settled in the car, Buffy a little gingerly and Sam covertly watching her from the corner of his eyes. The warm feeling she'd had earlier was now accompanied by stomach flutters.

_He's just watching you because you're a big, fat liar and he knows it,_ she told herself. _Those tummy flip flops are _not_ because he's really nice looking and worried about you._

Sam carefully backed the car back down the path and soon they were on the road, headed toward Palo Alto and home. Sweet, sweet home with her glorious bathtub and puffy bed. Maybe she could play up the pathetic card a little and get Sam to cook dinner again…

"So you're really not going to tell me what happened out there?" Sam asked, glancing over at her from the driver's seat. It was weird seeing his extra tall frame in Dawn's place. His large hand wrapped around the steering wheel usually reserved for Dawn's manicured fingers.

"Nuh-uh," Buffy said, shaking her head. He was really taking this well - she was relieved and she didn't want to admit to herself that it was because she was a little worried about scaring him off.

"Guess I'll just have to get Mrs. Stanowski to fill me in on your adventures," he said with a shrug.

"Oh no…" Buffy moaned, hanging her head. "Don't tell me she's been at it again."

The old woman next door had been on Buffy's case since she moved in. She didn't know if she'd done something to draw her wrath or if she was just bored and this was her way of passing the time - making up ludicrous stories about people - but it was starting to get annoying. It was just amusing at first, but it was hard to laugh about it when the cops showed up at the door. And now she was talking to Sam...

"I don't know what you mean," Sam said innocently. "She just came over, introduced herself, wanted to make sure I was okay and then told me all about how you go to the orgies."

Buffy's jaw came unhinged as she whipped her head around so fast that it made her dizzy (concussions no likey the fast movement).

"The _what_?"

"It's okay. There's nothing wrong with a woman exploring her sexual side," Sam said, biting his lip to hold in the laughter as he reached over and patted Buffy's shoulder. "She also told me about the drugs. We'll get you some help, Buffy."

"She _did not_ say that," Buffy said, still in shock.

"Oh, but she did," he said, giving into the laughter.

"She said I went to _orgies_? The word _orgies _came out of Mrs. Stanowski's mouth? I think I just threw up in my mouth a little…"

"It could be worse," he said with another dimpley smile. "You could live next door to whoever set your car on fire."

"I'd rather live next door to pyromaniac mice any day than Mrs. Stanowski."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"I'm hoping if I just ignore her she'll get bored and stop. Or get old and die. Either would work," Buffy muttered, popping open the console. She was relieved to find a brush stashed in there and quickly went to work on her rat's nest hair, her eyes wandering over toward Sam every few seconds without her permission.

"Sorry to drag you out of school like this," she said. "Thanks for coming."

"It's fine. I keep my class load light on Mondays and Thursdays because I work those days."

"Oh, where do you work?"

"At a little bookstore and coffee shop on the edge of campus. It's just those two days, but it's enough to pay for food and clothes and whatnot."

"Wow, a normal job. It feels like forever since I had one of those," Buffy said a little wistfully. Not that she'd particularly enjoyed her 'normal' jobs, but since the Slaying had slowed down she sometimes wished she had something else to do - something to occupy her free time.

"Haven't always just done the bounty hunting thing, huh?" Sam asked, glancing over at her. She shook her head and he went on curiously. "So what normal jobs have you had?"

"Well, I worked at a fast food place once. That didn't last long and was a complete disaster. Then I was a school guidance councilor for a while. That actually wasn't too bad…"

"Why don't you do that again if you liked it?"

"Just because I liked it, that doesn't mean I was good at it," Buffy said with a little laugh. "Or even remotely qualified. There were extenuating circumstances with that anyway. A friend got me the job. What about you, had any other jobs before this?"

"Nope, just helping out with the family business, like I told you about."

"That's right. You said you're family didn't like you leaving to come here. What about now? You've been here three years, right? Are they still angry?"

"I actually haven't talked to my dad since I left. I talked to my brother some that first year, but not since then," Sam said, his voice going a little quieter as he shifted slightly in his seat.

"Whoa, that's a long time…" Buffy said, wondering what it would be like to cut herself off from Dawn, Giles, Willow and Xander like that. How lonely she'd be. "What about your mom?"

"She died when I was a baby," Sam answered, his voice tight.

"I'm sorry," Buffy said softly, sensing a landmine and backing off. "So you were talking to your brother, why'd you stop?"

"I don't know. I started out calling a lot, but… I felt bad, you know? He'd talk about what was going on with him and dad and I'd feel bad because I wasn't there," Sam said, his words slow, as if he were just now figuring out for himself why they'd stopped talking. "Then I'd get mad, because, why should I feel bad? I just went to college. So I just started calling less and less, because I hated feeling guilty and angry. I started putting off calling, I kept saying 'I'll call tomorrow' and days would go by. Then weeks. After a while, it just seemed like too much time had gone by - that it'd be awkward if I called then. So I'd put it off some more. It's been two years now since I talked to him."

"And your brother, he didn't try calling you either?"

"He tried once. I was in class and I had a message when I got out. He sounded kind of aggravated, wondered where I was, what I was doing. I don't know, I guess I should have called him back but… I just didn't."

Buffy sat quietly for a moment, his confession eating at her.

"You must not remember your mom," she said, knowing she was treading into dangerous territory but going ahead anyway.

"No," Sam said after a moment of silence. "I don't."

"And you must not have lost anyone you were close to. Really close." His silence was all the answer she needed. "I lost my mom, too. She was… amazing. And I was lucky enough to have her with me for twenty years. I've lost friends. I've lost lovers. I know exactly what it's like to wake up one morning and someone you always thought would be there just… isn't anymore." She paused taking a deep breath and steadying herself, pushing back the sudden wave of pain at remembering the people she'd lost. "You should call your family, Sam. Because one day they might not be there to call."

"Even if all we do is fight?" He asked quietly.

"Maybe it's just me, but I'd rather fight with Dawn every day for the rest of our lives than have her be gone tomorrow and never be able to fight with her again."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence and even though Buffy was worried that maybe she'd made him angry, she didn't try and apologize or take his mind off what she'd said. He had a lot to think about and she hoped he really thought about it hard. Family was important and she'd hate to seem him realize that too late.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Seven**

It had been a week since his trip to Yosemite to pick up Buffy and Sam was still having the occasional staring contest with his phone. To call or not to call… Buffy's warning echoed in his ears again and again, but… What did really she know about it anyway? It wasn't like she had all the information, so she couldn't make a valid argument. If he called now, dad wouldn't see it as a "hey, how are you" call he'd see it as a "I was wrong and I shouldn't have left" call. They'd think he regretted his decision and that was the last impression he wanted to give. Then there'd be the inevitable, "lets get together" from Dean and then would come the "come on a hunt with us" and before he knew it, he'd be sucked back in.

_Aren't you already in?_ _Did you ever actually get _out_?_ His more cynical side asked. And it had a point. While he liked living with Buffy, every minute she wasn't there was spent looking for hex bags - not exactly the activities of a normal college student. But, after seeing her firebombed car he was even more determined to find out if she'd been cursed.

Maybe it was just her lifestyle, hunting fugitives wasn't exactly a profession one expected to be perfectly safe. Or maybe it was just like Dawn had said, she really was just accident prone. Or maybe there was something else going on. And Sam liked Buffy too much to let it go until he found out for sure. In fact, he liked her more than he should. Sure, he'd been attracted to her before, but ever since seeing her, battered and singed by her destroyed car, something had shifted. There'd been this sudden rush of protectiveness that washed over him. She was just so _tiny_, and the thought of her out there all alone, fighting with some criminal made his blood boil. Then she wanted to protect _him_ by not telling him what went on out there! Mice. He shook his head and smiled slightly.

His amusement drained away as he remembered their talk on the way back to Palo Alto though. The reason he was spending an hour a day just staring at his phone. _"I lost my mom too… I've lost friends. I've lost lovers."_ Her pained words tumbled through his mind and made his chest tight. When he'd first seen her picture on the refrigerator, he'd thought she had sad eyes, eyes that had seen too much. And he'd been right. But she didn't give in. She did her job, she tried to be a good sister for Dawn, she lived and laughed and was absolutely amazing.

See, that was what he was talking about. He cared way more than he should. And everyday it got a little worse. He liked her a little more, felt a little more comfortable around her, wanted to learn more about her, found himself looking forward to seeing her again. More than that, he felt something in himself changing the more he was around her. Something that was knotted up inside since he'd left home was slowly loosening. And while it was nice, and he was grateful for that, it also worried him.

"Hey man, you're going to set that thing on fire if you stare at it any harder," came a familiar voice from next to him.

Stuffing the phone back in his pocket for later contemplation, he turned to grin at his friend, "How's it going, Brady? Long time no see."

"Not my fault. I stopped by your dorm room looking for you last week, Josh said you weren't staying there much anymore. So what's the deal? New girl?"

"Nah, just been staying at a place off campus," Sam said with a shrug.

"Something happen with Josh?" Brady asked as they started walking.

"Just wanted a little more peace and quiet, you know? The dorms are alright, but when I got an offer to stay somewhere else, I couldn't say no."

It wasn't that he didn't trust Brady, he did. He'd known him since their first year here. If Sam had thought he'd come from a messed up family, it was nothing compared to Brady. Wealthy but very strict and cold, they'd finally pushed him over the edge during Thanksgiving break of their sophmore year. When he came back, he'd _changed_. Even though Brady wouldn't talk about what exactly happened, Sam guessed his family must have finally just pushed him too far and he decided he was going to rebel. A lot. He just went hog wild. Drugs, drinking, girls - he'd be out until all hours of the morning, missing classes for days straight. Sam put his all into helping his friend, making him realize that throwing away everything he'd worked for just to spite his family was going to screw no one but himself. And it worked. He got Brady cleaned up and back on track and they were even closer than before. But even though he knew Brady would take the whole gun thing in stride, maybe even go give Josh a piece of his mind, he'd just rather no one else know about it.

"So, you're staying with another student off campus?"

"No, her names Buffy, and she's not a student."

"Buffy Summers?"

"Yeah," Sam asked, looking over at him in surprise. "You know her?"

There was a strange expression on Brady's face, one he couldn't quite place. It was gone before he had the chance and his friend snorted and shook his head. "No, but I've seen that crazy whirlwind of insanity she calls a sister around campus."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, she's… a lot to take in," he said diplomatically.

"So, you and this Buffy chick, you're like… together?"

"No," Sam said, maybe a little to fast. Determinedly blocking out any thoughts of 'togetherness' with Buffy, he went on - both to convince Brady and himself. "It's just a roommate thing. We just share space. That's it."

"You should man up and ask out Jessica Moore, man," Brady said, nudging Sam with an elbow and giving him a grin, obviously not noticing anything wrong with Sam's answer. "You've been saying you were going to ask her out for months. Just do it already."

Actually, Sam had had a crush on Jessica for about a year now, he'd only brought it up to Brady a few months ago after one too may drinks at a bar. But now that he'd mentioned her, Sam realized he hadn't thought about Jessica at all since he'd moved in with Buffy. He hadn't even noticed her in the class they shared on Friday. Instead all he could think about was another blond. This one short and a little crazy and possibly cursed.

"Yeah, maybe I'll do that," Sam said, only partially meaning it. On one hand, it'd be great to go out with Jessica to keep his mind off Buffy. But on the other, that was a pretty shitty thing to do. Jessica was really nice, she didn't deserve to be a distraction.

Lost in his thoughts, Sam missed the dark look Brady shot at his back and it didn't occur to him until much later that if Brady had just seen Dawn around campus, how'd he know her sister's name?

* * *

"Will someone get that infernal bird out of here," Giles barked, making Buffy cringe away from the phone. "Sorry, Buffy. Xander, for some inexplicable reason, decided he wanted a parrot. The things been driving us all bloody mad."

"A parrot? Does it talk?" Buffy asked, she could hear the thing shrieking in the background the moment she'd answered the phone.

"Well, it says 'grr, argh' repeatedly if you want to count that as speech. Don't know what that boy was thinking…"

"Sometimes it's better not to try and understand Xander logic, Giles. That way lies madness."

"Indeed," Giles said with a sigh. "I actually called because there's a vampire in San Francisco that needs taken care of."

"Just one vampire? Is this one of those pity things where you give the old horse that's been put out to pasture a job giving the kiddies rides around the farm so it can feel useful again?" Buffy asked with a pout as she slumped on the couch.

"No, I can assure you this isn't a 'pity slaying' if that's what you're implying" Giles said, a smile in his voice. "You're the closest and he needs to be taken care of as soon as possible. His name is Christophe, and he's trying to amass an army if the rumors are correct. He needs to be stopped before he can succeed."

"An army, huh? Why can't he be like other vamps and have regular vampy ambitions - rise, eat, stay away from pointy wood. Always has to be some smart guy out there with big ideas. So where will I find this guy?"

"It seems he likes to frequent a… well, it's an S&M establishment called the uh," Giles stopped to clear his throat and she could practically hear him cleaning his glasses. "Called the Silken Chain. My contacts suggest that that's where he's most… vulnerable."

Buffy took a moment to revel in the horror of hearing "S&M" come out of Giles' mouth before the enormity of what he was saying hit her.

"Giles… what are you suggesting?"

"Nothing. How you handle this case is up to you. I have absolutely no suggestions and don't want to know what you decide. Have to go now, teas ready," Giles said quickly before the line clicked in her ear.

Great.

* * *

It was late when Buffy got home and she sat in the car for a moment, trying to get up the energy to walk in the boots she was wearing again. She was dressed all in shiny black leather, complete with knee high boots that had six inch heels, little leather hat and a ten foot whip wrapped around her waist. The tight bustier worked miracles with her modest cleavage and her ass looked fantastic if she did say so herself. Even the girl in the shop she'd bought all this stuff at had been impressed. She'd gotten a lot of disturbing offers (and begging) at the S&M club during her hunt for Christophe. When she'd finally found him, he'd been so entranced by her that she'd staked him with out a fight. He'd did manage a "But what a way to go" with a grin before he poofed though. So, yeah, she was tired but her ego was at an all time high.

With a sigh she got out of the car, her heels clicking loudly on the walkway as she made her way to the house. As confident as she was feeling, she was glad it was Monday. That meant Sam had worked that night. He was usually pretty beat after a day of school and work and headed to bed as soon as he got in. But, of course, because this is how things worked in Buffy's world, tonight would be that exception. When she got in the house, she froze a few steps inside the front door, right in the entrance way to the living room where Sam was sitting in front of the TV. The remote in one hand and a spoon full of ice cream from the tub between his knees in the other. His eyes widened to dinner plate size as he looked her head to toe and the ice cream slid off of his spoon onto his thigh.

"Not a word," she warned.

"Yes, mistress," Sam choked out with a bit back laugh.

She narrowed her eyes and unwrapped the whip from her waist, then snapped it out, snatching the remote from Sam's hand and whipping it into her own. Sam stared at her slack jawed for a moment.

"You just Indiana Jonesed the remote…"

Buffy smirked at him - after being bowed to and begged at all night like she was a god, she was feeling pretty self assured and even a little aggressive. Maybe it was the leather, maybe that was why Faith always acted like she did - it was a byproduct of the clothing she wore. She backed up a few steps and opened the door, flinging the remote out into the yard before shutting it again. Then she looked back to Sam and cracked the whip.

"Fetch."

Sam's smile melted away and his eyes darkened.

_Uh-oh…_

He got up slowly, sitting the ice cream and spoon on the table, then prowled toward her, stopping just short of touching her. She could feel the heat radiating off of his body, seeping through the leather, making her sweat. She swallowed hard and looked up at him - six inch heels and she still barely reached his chin. He was so close, too close, she needed to back up. But she just couldn't seem to get her body to move.

Suddenly the door flew open and there stood Mrs. Stanowski holding a flashlight in one hand and a gardening tool in the other.

"Thought I heard a gunshot!"

"And you were going to hoe the shooter to death?" Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow, her body finally under her control again and allowing her to step back from Sam. Nothing like the appearance of Grandma Moses to douse the old hormone fire.

"Looks like you're doing enough hoing for the both of us," Mrs. Stanowski shot back, taking in Buffy's outfit.

Sam burst out laughing and Buffy's mouth fell open before she nodded in concession, "Touché, Mrs. Stanowski, touché. You've won this round."

The old ladies lips twitched slightly before turned to leave, muttering about wishing she had "one of them camera phones" as she made her way down the porch steps. "Your remote control's out here," she called from the dark walkway. "Looks like you'll need some of that duct tape to fix it though."

Sam was still smiling as he walked over and shut the front door.

"She'll be making the rounds first thing in the morning, telling everyone in a mile radius about how she found me whipping you in the front hall," Buffy said, shaking her head. "What in the world was she doing outside in the middle of the night like that? I know she couldn't have heard that whip from her house."

"She was probably watching when you came home and wanted to see that outfit up close," Sam said, eyeing her appreciatively. "Not that I can blame her."

"Okay, I've had enough pervy comments tonight to last a lifetime, I'm done," Buffy said, taking the opportunity to escape before she threw herself at Sam and his dimples. She headed up the stairs, whip trailing after her.

"You _were _undercover, right?" Sam asked. "I mean, this was just a work thing?"

She paused at the top and looked down at him with a smirk.

"I'll leave that for you to wonder about."

Just because she wasn't going to let herself wander into pelvic-happy-fun-time area didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Eight**

The house had been filled with tension since the dominatrix incident the other night. And not really the _bad_ kind either, more of the sexual kind. It seemed like anything Buffy did, Sam was acutely aware of it. The way she stretched in the mornings, all sleepy eyes and bed head as she stumbled in into the kitchen for coffee. How her hair kept getting in her face when she was going over some of her 'super secret files' but she just kept pushing it away instead of clipping it back. The way the sweat ran off of her when she came back from a run.

Sam's hand paused in his shelving - work definitely _wasn't_ the place to think about a sweaty Buffy...

Each day he came a little closer to making the move he'd been so close to making that night. But when he was away, like now, clear thoughts would come back and he'd remember what a monumentally bad idea that was. Not only could it not work because it could ruin the housing arrangement they had, but also he'd always be lying to her about where he was from and who he was, then there was the fact her job made him crazy with worry. But still, even knowing that, he'd walk by her just a little too close, let his eyes linger on hers for just a moment too long, stay up to talk to her just a little too late.

And it wasn't like he could just leave. Not only because he had nowhere else to go, but also because he didn't _want_ to leave. Dawn had been absolutely right about her accident proneness (and possibly being cursed) but that wasn't the only reason he didn't want to go. He liked her. He liked her so much it was bordering on something other than _like_ and it scared the crap out of him.

Then there was the "what if she doesn't feel the same" question lingering. He _thought_ she did - he caught her looking at him sometimes when he was trying to sneak a peek at her, she called just to chat when she was out of town and bored, she leaned in a little too close when they were talking and would touch his arm. But what if she just liked him as a friend? What if he was wrong and made a move? What if he ruined everything and she kicked him out? What if-

"Sam?"

Sam spun around and his eyes widened as he saw Jessica Moore standing right behind him.

"Jessica! Hey, uh… something I can help you with?" He asked awkwardly with a small smile while running a hand through his hair. Just because he hadn't really thought about her recently hadn't made her any less beautiful or made him feel any less like a junior high kid around her.

"Well, I was looking for a book and Brady suggested I come here."

Brady. Meddling little…

"Sure, I can help you. Which book did you need?"

Jessica kind of switched her weight around uncomfortably then took a deep breath.

"Okay, truth? I don't really need a book, I came here to see you," she said, looking straight at him with determination. "Would you, uh… would you like to have dinner with me… sometime?"

Sam just stared at her for a second, his mind surely not translating those words the way they were meant to be heard.

"You want to have dinner? With me?" He asked, just to clarify.

When she nodded, Sam's stalled mind started working overtime. Jessica Moore was here in the book store wanting to go out with him. She'd come all the way here to ask him out. A beautiful girl he'd wanted to go out with for a year was here asking _him_.

And all he could think about was Buffy.

"Yeah, sure," he blurted out with a smile. "When's good for you?"

He didn't want to _use_ Jessica. But things with Buffy were off limits and Jessica was beautiful, nice, smart and here asking him out. This was a good thing. The right thing to do. At least that's what he kept telling himself for the rest of the night when the uneasy knot in his stomach kept rolling around chanting that he was an idiot.

When he pulled in the driveway that night, his mind was still telling him he'd made the right decision while his heart was telling him this was a _bad_ idea. So absorbed in the battle between the two, he almost missed Buffy sitting at the island with a towel pressed to her face. Stomach sinking, he hurried over to her as thoughts of Jessica disappeared. Hearing him coming up behind her, Buffy spun around, lowering the towel and revealing two black eyes.

Sam sucked air between his teeth as stopped in front of her, "What _happened_?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Tried to stop a fast moving object with my face," Buffy said, grinning self-deprecatingly.

Sam though, was unamused. His jaw clenched and he marched over to the freezer, pulling out a package of frozen peas and slamming the freezer door with more force than necessary before coming back to her. Still without saying a word, he tugged her off the stool and lifted her up onto the counter so they could be eye to eye. She was watching him with a raised eyebrow and a bemused expression. She winced a little as he gently placed the frozen peas against her face and his teeth slid together with a loud grinding sound.

"What's with you?" She asked, still looking confused.

"This," he ground out. "I… I _hate_ this. I'm not trying to tell you what to do. But there's nothing you can do to keep me from hating it either."

"Okay," she said quietly, wide eyed and still looking baffled. Slowly a smirk pulled up the corner of her mouth though and her green eyes went soft and teasing. "Aw, Sam, you worry about me?"

Sam wasn't amused at all though, "Of course I worry about you. You're five foot nothing, weigh about as much as a phone book and you're out there hunting down dangerous criminals."

Seeing that he was upset, Buffy's smirk melted away and one of her hands came up to gently grip his wrist as he held the peas to her face. Her thumb making soothing swipes on the backside of her hand.

"I'm fine, Sam," she said, looking at him earnestly. "It's nice that you care, but you don't have to worry about me. I know what I'm doing and I'm the best there is."

"Maybe you are, but what if-"

"No 'what if's'," she said, squeezing his wrist slightly and interrupting him. "You can do that all day with anything. What if a car jumps up on the sidewalk while I'm running? What if someone tries to rob the bank while I'm in there? What if Mrs. Stanowski sets the house on fire while I'm sleeping? It isn't going to change anything. I'll go when I'm damn well good and ready and not a second before."

Sam stared at her, the worry in his chest loosening. It was ridiculous and there were a million things he could argue with about what she just said, but the fire in her eyes, the determination in her voice - he believed her. Letting out a gusty breath he shook his head and looked down. Suddenly he became very aware of the position they were in - her on the counter, him between her legs, one of his hands on the counter next to her hip and the other holding the frozen vegetables on her face, one of her hands still wrapped around his wrist. He took a deep breath, she smelled like oranges and vanilla. His eyes drifted back up to hers and knew immediately that she'd noticed their position as well. But she didn't pull away. Instead, her free hand came up and gripped the material of his shirt at his side, her fingers brushing his stomach through the fabric making him suck in a sharp breath. He leaned in, eyes drifting shut as the smell of her surrounded him, her breath and his mingling together.

There lips had barely brushed when the shrill ring of a telephone had them jumping apart like guilty teenagers. They stared at each other wide eyed for a moment before Buffy shoved him out of the way and hopped off the counter. He let her go, still shocked at his actions. _Their_ actions. A smile broke out over his face. At least now he knew she felt the same.

His elation melted away as he heard Buffy's overly calm voice from behind him though.

"And why exactly are you at the police station, Dawn?"

* * *

Buffy willed her heart to slow down as she reached a slightly shaking hand toward her ringing phone. That had been close. Too close. Guilt gnawed at her. Not only was she doing exactly what she said she wouldn't - getting involved with a guy again when she was supposed to be focusing on Dawn - but she was lying to him. If he worried about her when he thought of her going after humans, imagine if he knew the truth.

Shoving away her thoughts on Sam, she answered the call.

"Buffy," came a nervous, slightly watery voice. "I'm at the police station."

"And why exactly are you at the police station, Dawn?" Buffy asked, forcing herself to be calm.

"Well, I was on a date and-"

"You were on a date? Why didn't you tell me? With who? What-"

"Are you going to let me finish?" Dawn snapped. "I go on dates all the time and I don't tell you."

Buffy pouted and shoved down the burst of hurt. "Okay, fine. You were on a date and-"

"Well, he got a little… handsy."

"Handsy?" Buffy gritted out, her vision going slightly red. "Are saying some little prick groped you?"

"Uh, yeah… but-"

"Oh God," Buffy said, terror suddenly flowing through her. "He didn't- I mean, did he- are you at the police station because he-"

"No!" Dawn almost shouted in her ear. Buffy let out a long breath of relief, her knees feeling weak she leaned against the counter. "I'm at the police station because _I've_ been arrested, not him."

Buffy blinked and shook her head slightly, "I'm sorry, I thought you just told me your date put his hands on you without your permission. How does that equal _you_ getting arrested. "

"I kinda broke his arm. And his nose. And his other arm."

"And they arrested you for _that_? He's lucky he's still alive. Not that he will be for much longer," Buffy said as she started pacing around the kitchen.

"Yeah, aggravated assault," Dawn said.

"Stupid police," Buffy muttered, her pacing picking up speed. "I think I still have that rocket launcher around here somewhere…"

"Buffy, will you quit planning mayhem and get me out of here?" Dawn barked in her ear. "You know how dirty people make my stomach all messed up, and there's tons of them here!"

"Dawn, how do you plan on being a lawyer if jails give you diarrhea?"

"I'm working on it! Just shut up and come get me!"

Buffy snapped her phone shut and stomped over to her purse, muttering about stupid little bastards thinking they could touch her sister. The hand that landed her shoulder almost sent her into Slayer mode. Spinning around she saw Sam, all concerned eyes and furrowed brows.

"What's going on?"

Buffy filled him as she went to her car, silently grateful when he climbed in the passenger seat. When she was done explaining she looked over at him. "So, you're doing the law thing right? What's all this mean? What's going to happen?"

"Well, it's pretty much just boils down to he said she said," Sam said, his head tilted slightly in thought. "But since he's the one with the injuries…"

"So she defends herself against some pervert and _she's_ going to be the one that gets in trouble?" Buffy asked, outraged. "So, I need to what? Get her a lawyer?"

"Save the lawyers and the rocket launchers for now," Sam said, giving her a small grin. "Do you really have a rocket launcher?"

"Not at the house, but I do have one floating around somewhere."

Sam shook his head as they pulled up at the police station. "You're going to have to tell me the story behind that one day. For now just go sit with Dawn. I'll take care of this. And leave the car running."

Buffy got out and watched in confusion as he walked around to the driver's seat. He paused before getting in and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Quit making that face," he said into her hair. "It'll be fine. I promise."

Before she could answer, he let go and motored out of the parking lot, leaving her with a ton of questions and a fluttery stomach.

When Buffy got into the station, she was glad to find that Dawn wasn't in a cell at least. Instead, she was handcuffed to a bench next to a passed out hobo, looking a little green. The relief on Dawn's face brought back Buffy's anger full force. They were off the Hellmouth, living a normal (well, kinda normal) life - her little sister shouldn't be in positions that made her relieved Buffy had come to the rescue anymore.

"You okay, Dawnie?"

"Yeah. Please tell me you're getting me out of here. I'll even go along with the rocket launcher plan at this point," she said, giving the snoring homeless man another look and trying to scoot even further away from him.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," Buffy said, deciding to give Sam an hour to do whatever he was trying to do before she went Slayerific on the station.

She spent that time going between Dawn - taking her mind off of her predicament and reassuring her that everything was being taken care of - and the police. At first she tried to sweet talk them, but one of them made a comment about "whipping" (damn that Mrs. Stanowski had some crazy gossip skills), so she moved into making rude comments about the legal system and occasionally questioning their parentage and abilities as men. Dawn even joined in once the bum was moved to a cell. Her mouthiness and cockiness returning like he'd been some kind of hobo kryptonite draining away her powers.

Just as the cops were starting to look like they would be arresting Buffy as well and throwing them both in a cell, one of them walked up from desk across the room.

"You and your sister are free to go. The charges have been dropped," he said, getting groans of relief around the room.

Buffy gaped at him like a fish for a second before breaking out in a smile, "Aw, I'm so proud of you boys. You finally realized how stupid this whole thing was. Now, we need to talk about charges against that little-"

"Actually, Miss Summers, the boy called from the hospital and recanted his statement. Said he wanted your sister let go and all charges dropped."

Both Buffy and Dawn were still in a state of confused shock when they wandered out of the police station to find Sam there waiting for them in Buffy's car, looking smug and smiling slightly.

"You alright, Dawn?" He asked, looking in the rearview mirror at her as she settled in the backseat.

"Yeah," she said. "I just need some Pepto, a shower and a little bleach and I'll be good as new."

"It's interesting how he suddenly decided to drop the charges like that," Buffy said, looking at Sam after buckling her seatbelt. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"I just made him see the error of his ways," Sam said with a shrug, eyes on the road as he guided the car out of the lot.

"Did you just threaten him?" Buffy asked, making Dawn sit forward in interest.

"I might have been a little… insistent about him realizing he was in the wrong and that Dawn shouldn't be the one punished. But the decision was his."

"You threatened a hospitalized boy with two broken arms to keep my little sister out of jail," Buffy said slowly, then smiled widely. "That's so sweet…"

Sam smiled back at her, dimples out in full force.

Neither of them noticed Dawn watching them closely from the back seat.

* * *

Dawn had originally planned on going back to the dorm - she wanted her own room, her own jammies, her own space to get over the grossness of the police station. She was already over Elliot and his wandering hands and selective hearing, but the trauma of being cuffed next to a hobo would last a lifetime. After seeing the little exchange in the car though, she decided to take up Buffy's offer and stay the night at the house tonight.

There was something going on between the two of them. The lingering looks, the soft smiles, just something in the air around them. And Dawn didn't like it one bit. She wanted to see sparkage, lust, them not being about to keep their hands off each other. This… this was something else. As she watched them awkwardly say goodnight in the hall, she saw the small smile on Buffy's face as she disappeared into her room and Dawn finally realized what she was seeing.

When she'd started this, Dawn had wanted a distraction for Buffy, a little lusty fun to occupy her free time. But now she was thinking maybe this had been a bad idea. Because now it looked like her sister was actually _falling _for this guy! They didn't know anything about him! What if Buffy got her heart broken AGAIN and it was all Dawn's fault? She needed to know more about Sam. She needed help. Time to call in the big guns.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Nine**

Sam's Friday classes went by in a blur of inattention. It had been late last night when they got back from the police station, but instead of falling right to sleep, all he could think about was Buffy and how soft her lips had been for that split second before the phone rang. Those few moments in the kitchen replayed in his head over and over. Sometimes with commentary about how great it been, how he'd like to do that again, wondering what would have happened if the phone hadn't rung. But sometimes those thoughts and questions turned more pessimistic - what was he doing? Why had he done that? What if things were weird between them now?

Then there was Dawn. She was quiet as they left the house together that morning. Too quiet. Sam hadn't know her to be "quiet" at all since they'd met. At first he thought maybe it was that Elliot kids fault and he'd have to pay him another visit - he may not "like" Dawn per se, but she kind of grew on you after a while and he felt the urge to look out for her. But after he'd asked if she was alright, the withering look she sent him made it clear that it wasn't Elliot she had an issue with - it was Sam himself. He hadn't understood why and hadn't wanted to sound like a little kid asking "are you mad at me", so he kept quiet and wondered. Was it because he'd threatened Elliot? It wasn't _that_ bad. Yeah, he'd made some inventive promises of what would happen to him if he pressed charges but mostly he was just big and scary looking to the beat down, drugged up, freshman. And shouldn't she be _glad_ he did what he did? Not only would the little bastard think twice before treating another girl like that, but he'd gotten Dawn out of jail. But she'd just sat there, sullen and silent on the drive over, then disappeared without a word when they arrived on campus.

And if all that wasn't bad enough, as he was leaving his last class of the day, Jessica rushed by and gave him a smile and a wave while saying something about looking forward to tomorrow before she hurried off. He gave a confused "uh…yeah" at her back. That's when it hit him. He had a date. With Jessica. He had a date with Jessica tomorrow. After he'd kind of kissed Buffy last night. And was sort of planning to kiss her again in the future.

Girl troubles weren't something Sam was used to dealing with. He had no idea what to do next. Should he cancel with Jessica or tell her in person that he had feelings for someone else? Should he just ignore those feelings for Buffy and go out with Jessica? Forget what went on last night and go on like nothing happened?

And just like that, he suddenly wished that his brother was there. Dean would know what to do. Okay, so he'd tease him unmercifully first, but in the end he'd have the answers Sam needed, just like he always had. All the excuses and the reasons he gave for not calling were suddenly watered down and weak sounding and he felt ashamed of himself. How had he let it get like this? His brother hadn't been a wall holding him back, he'd been a limb, supporting him.

He'd fix this, he decided, pulling out his phone and sitting down on a retaining wall away from the traffic of the end of the day rush. He'd screwed up, but damn it, he was going to "have his cake and eat it too", like Buffy had said. He'd have his family and his life at school. Scrolling down to the name he'd stared at for two years but hadn't called, Sam took a deep breath and pressed the button with a slightly shaking finger.

With each ring his heart beat a little harder and when the voicemail picked up, he was both relieved and disappointed. The sound of his brother's voice asking him to leave a message hit him like a battering ram. That deep, rough voice that he'd always associated with home and comfort echoed in his ears, reinforcing what a fool he'd been.

Forcing his voice to be steady he left his message, "Dean. It's Sam. I, uh, I'm sorry I haven't called in a while. I was hoping we could talk. Give me a call when you get a chance."

He hung up feeling like a weight had been lifted. There was still the issue of the date with Jessica tomorrow, but now that he'd made the call to Dean, it didn't seem like such a big deal anymore. He'd either figure it out on his own, or Dean would call back in time to help him.

It was Friday, so Dawn should have had custody of her car for the weekend, but he still had the keys from the ride in this morning. Not really in the mood for Dawn's bizarrely placed anger at him, he decided he'd just drive it home and she could come get it - hopefully after she'd gotten over whatever was eating at her.

When he got back to the house, Buffy was gone. There was note on the fridge saying she'd had to go to San Francisco and might not be back until tomorrow. The familiar feeling of worry coiled in him before he forced himself to let it go - worrying about Buffy was a full time job and was a fast track to insanity. Instead, he pulled out a can of Pepsi and settled at the counter with some school work.

After only about an hour, his text books started to blur in front of his eyes as his focus jumped from topic to topic, none of them having anything to do with the books in front of him. Finally giving up on studying, he decided he'd put his time to good use and search for more hex bags. All he had left downstairs was the workout room and the garage. Upstairs he just had Buffy's bedroom, bathroom and office to check. A sense of decorum kept him from Buffy's bedroom. The idea of pawing through her things made him nervous and the thought of getting caught sent his mind spiraling toward panic. That was something he'd have to spend some time talking himself up to. The office on the other hand was more interesting than the garage and the workout room, but not as invasive as her bedroom. Decision made. He slammed his books closed and headed upstairs.

Standing in the doorway, Sam felt a swell of foreboding. He remember Dawn's serious look and flatly stated words - "Stay out of there". Unlike the other rooms in the house, there was nothing warm or cushy about Buffy's office. A big oak desk took up the wall by the window and the other walls were lined with locked wooden panels that matched the desk. Sam had assumed that book shelves were concealed behind them, but why would they need locks? For the first time it occurred to him that maybe weapons were hidden behind those doors. Bounty hunters must have weapons, right? Guns, mace, batons, stun guns, hand cuffs… rocket launchers…

Wandering slowly into the room, he took a leisurely lap around, tugging lightly on the panels and finding them all tightly locked. The desk was similarly cleared off of anything other than paperclips, pens and a couple of scraps of paper with random notes and numbers, everything else locked in the drawers, leaving Sam only one choice. Grabbing a paperclip, he popped the lock on the top drawer with ease.

_Like riding a bike…_

A stack of files sat on top in the drawer. Sam, determined to keep this professional and not just a roommate being nosey, pulled them out without looking at them and sat them on the desk. Underneath was nothing but a couple little notebooks, an address book, some pens, staples, and other assorted office supplies. No hex bags. Sighing, he grabbed the files to stick back in the drawer when some pages slid out of the top one.

_So much for being professional_, he berated himself as he picked up the papers to have a better look. He was worse than Mrs. Stanowski, at least she didn't break in to snoop. Well, that he knew of anyway… Hesitating only a second, Sam, scanned the pages quickly. They were bond files. The one he had in hand was on a Richard Marco, arrested in San Francisco for carrying a concealed weapon then released on bail. He hadn't show up for his court date and since then evidence had come to light that he may have been involved with a murder. 5'10" and 180 lbs., Marco reminded Sam of shorter, fatter version of Magnum PI with his giant 70's mustache.

Flipping through the stack, he skimmed each one - domestic violence, assault, robbery. He felt sick. It was one thing to think about what Buffy did, it was another to see it in black and white. Flipping the files shut, a note on the desk caught his eye. There in Buffy's curly yet scribbly handwriting were the words _The Stinking Lizard - near Tenderloin._ The Stinking Lizard… that sounded familiar… Flipping back to Marco's file, he saw why - it was listed as the club he was arrested at. But something was bothering Sam. He felt like he'd heard of that place before now. Putting the files away except Marco's, he left it laying on the desk and went downstairs to grab his laptop. Seated at the kitchen island again, he did a search on The Stinking Lizard.

The results were immediate and he knew right away why that place sounded familiar. It had been on the news a few days ago. The daughter of some congresswoman had been found dead in an alley a few blocks away. The article didn't say anything about cause of death or whether foul play was involved so Sam dug a little deeper by hacking into the coroner's office. It seemed that the girl in question, a Lesley Cransgrove, had died of blood loss. The results were inconclusive, but it seemed as if the wounds were caused by sharp pronged instrument being jabbed into the victims neck.

Dread washed over Sam and he snatched up Dawn's keys. He stopped just before going out the door and ran upstairs, pulling the lockbox out from under the bed and tucking its contents in the waistband of his pants before running full speed out the door.

Buffy was there at the Stinking Lizard looking for her skip. She'd be walking right into a vampire's hunting ground with no idea what she was getting into.

* * *

The bass in the club was giving her a headache and she was sure her organs would never settle properly back into place. God, she really was getting old… She'd been there for hours already with no sign of her now famous vamp. He shouldn't be hard to find, he'd been bragging about his kill getting on the news. The local vampires she'd already tracked down earlier had been more than willing to give him up. Not that that saved them. So with a description and a four block hunting radius that he seemed to stick to, Buffy had ended up here. The Stinking Lizard was right smack in the middle of the vampires territory, an all you can eat buffet of drunk and drugged out people wandering dark alleys after the bars closed. They were lucky Lesley Cransgrove's death drew such attention or they wouldn't have known about this. At least the poor girl's end would save the lives of others.

Another loser bumped into her as she walked around the perimeter of the dance floor. Her lip curled up as he leaned in close, leering at her. Jeez, look at that mustache... Looked like something out of a cheesy 70's porn flick. Turning away in disgust, she'd gone back to scanning the crowd when she suddenly she felt Pornstache's hand on her ass. She spun around and grabbed his arm, bending it back until she could feel the bones creaking. He screeched like a little girl and hit his knees. She released him with an eye roll. She really didn't have time for regular run of the mill perverts.

"You bitch, you don't know who you're messing with," he said, his small dark eyes narrowed as he scrambled back to his feet.

"Sure I do - the guy that's going to get his ass kicked by a girl in front of a whole club full of people if he doesn't beat it," Buffy said, with an raised eyebrow - daring him to make a move. He looked like he was going to for a second, but then he started backing away into the crowd. Once he disappeared into the throng of people she immediately put him out of her mind. She had bigger fish to fry.

It was almost an hour later when she finally spotted him. A button down shirt that's pattern would give you a seizure if you looked at it too long, black chin length hair and a thin scar that carved its way up through his eyebrow, reminding her of Spike. This was her guy. The thought of Spike immediately sent her mood into dangerous territory and her thoughts drifted to him as she prowled around the room watching the vampire and waiting for it to leave.

After Sunnydale had fallen, she been so upset over his sacrifice. Her thoughts swirled in loops of "I should have told him" and "did he know how much he meant" and "all my fault". Then Andrew had come back from a little jaunt to LA a few months ago with news that Spike was there - resurrected and just hanging out at Wolfram and Hart. Immediately all her warm and fuzzy feelings and guilt had tumbled to record lows. Yes, she was still grateful for what he'd done, yes, she still cared about him, but… He hadn't even called! He _still_ hadn't called!

At this point she had worked up a good amount of steam and when her vamp walked out a side exit with a little blond under his arm she wasted no time going after him. By the time she got through the throng and out the door, he was already in vamp face and she was already screaming.

Buffy marched up and pulled him back by his shoulder, punching him squarely in the face as soon as she saw that stupid eyebrow scar.

"I didn't want him to call anyway!" She yelled.

Both the vampire and the girl looked at her like she was crazy and she blushed a little.

"You can run now," she said to the girl irritably, making a shooing motion. Snapping back to attention, the girl took her advice and took off at impressive pace considering she was wearing six inch heals. Buffy knew from recent experience how hard it was to navigate in those things.

The vampire came at her while she was watching the girl leave and she spun to meet him head on. The fight was far too short in her opinion. She was just starting to really work out her aggression after the thoughts of Spike when he gave her a full chest opening and her Slayer instincts plunged the stake in. He managed to get in one last shove just before he dusted, sending her stumbling over a bag of garbage and sprawling on the filthy alley floor.

And this was her life. Dirty alleys, vamp dust and being upset because yet another guy had disappointed her. It really wasn't so much Spike she was bothered about. It was herself. Why did guys always leave her? What was it about her that sent them for the hills? Angel, Riley, Spike - all of them just walked away (well, technically Riley flew away, and Spike blew away, but whatever). Why couldn't she find a good forever kinda guy? And why was she thinking about his anyway? Hadn't she decided she didn't want a guy?

Buffy was still laying on the ground in the smelly alley, blinking up at the sky and wondering about her life when Sam suddenly appeared in her view.

"Shit, are you okay?" He said, eyes raking over her in concern as his shaggy hair fell forward.

"Huh?" Buffy grunted out articulately. What the- Was he really there? Why was he-

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Huh?"

"That's it, you're going to a hospital," he mumbled, grabbing her arms and pulling her into a sitting position.

"What are you doing here?" She finally got out, yanking her arms out of his grip and shoving him away as she stayed seated on the ground. Okay, so maybe she was still a little miffed with the male species in general. Then a more important question occurred to her. "How long have you been standing there? What did you see?"

"I just got out here," Sam said looking around the alley. "I'm guessing the guy got away?"

"Just disappeared," Buffy answered somewhat truthfully with no idea who Sam was actually talking about. She accepted his hand up and stood there trying in vain to brush the nasty alley scum off her clothes. "And you were doing what here?"

"Uh, well, I was in your office," Sam said, cringing slightly as she looked at him sharply. "And I saw the file on Marco. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Buffy just blinked at him blankly. First of all, he'd been in her office? He must not have seen any of the weapons or demonology texts because she was sure he'd be asking about those right now if he had. What was he doing in there anyway? And then there were the files. Buffy knew exactly which ones he was talking about, Dawn had brought them by to make her seem more like a "real" bounty hunter. She'd shoved them in her desk and forgotten about them. That's what brought him here?

They started walking toward the exit, Sam going on about how he was just looking for a stapler and Buffy still reeling over him being there. _Devine intervention_, a little part of her whispered. She almost snorted out loud. Right, because the PTB were really concerned about her love life, she was sure. Feeling his eyes on her, she turned to see him studying her quietly.

"What?"

"Make-up is amazing. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you didn't have two black eyes just twenty-four hours ago."

Buffy laughed uneasily, "Yeah, amazing. It wasn't actually that bad this morning. Lots better. Easy to cover."

Sam was giving her and her rambling a curious look when a car rolled past the mouth of the alley they were walking out of followed by the squeal of brakes. Then the car came zipping back, blocking the exit. The passenger side window rolled down revealing Pornstache.

"Come back for more?" She called out with a smirk, ready and willing to kick a little pervert ass.

"Sure did, sweet thing," he said with a dark smile.

The street light had barely had time to glint off the metal of the gun before Sam was shoving her behind a dumpster, diving behind her as the bullets started flying. The both sat with their backs pressed to the cold metal breathing hard, Sam near the corner.

"You okay?" He asked looking over at her, his jaw tight.

"He's _shooting_ at us!" Buffy said, completely shocked and offended.

Sam's jaw loosened and he smirked a little at her outrage. "Yeah, criminals tend to get testy when you try and drag them back to jail," he said, peeking back around the corner before Buffy gripped the back of his shirt and tugged him back roughly. "Man, Marco's mustache is even worse than in the mug shot. It's like it could jump off his face and run away any second."

Once again Buffy felt like she was missing piece of the puzzle. She knew Pornstache was shooting because he was pissed about the incident in the club. Was he seriously the guy from the file Sam saw? Marco? But that thought was washed away when Sam pulled something out from the small of his back.

"Why do you have a gun?" Buffy asked, mouth wide open.

"Why _don't_ you have one," Sam shot back, with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't use _guns_."

"You do this kind of thing all the time and you don't have a gun?"

He looked at her incredulously for a second before shaking his head and returning fire on the car. At first Buffy was shocked at the ease and the surety of his movements. Then she was incredibly turned on. Sam, sweet, floppy haired, kind of awkward, dimply Sam was suddenly a predator and it was totally _hot_. His long, lean body was coiled like a spring. The sleeves of his shirt where pushed up to his elbows, revealing deliciously tensed forearms. And when he turned to look at her, the intense look in those hazel eyes took her breath away.

And just like that, she couldn't stand it anymore. She wanted him and she wanted him _right now_. He felt it too, she could tell, the way his eyes swept over her and the stilted breath he let out through his nose - as if he were holding onto his restraint by a hair. She didn't remember moving, but suddenly she was on her knees, pressed up against him, mouth devouring his. He was like an inferno against her. Maybe it was just because she was so used to men that lacked a comfortable body temperature, but she never remembered Riley feeling like this. His free arm snaked around her waist and yanked her on top of him so she was straddling his hips as he still sat pressed against the dumpster. His hand danced up her spine and wrapped in her hair and tugging her head back as her own hands ran over his chest and curled in the material at his stomach, rock hard abs contracting under her fingers. The whimpering sound she made when his tongue slid against hers would have horrified her any other time but right then it just seemed to egg Sam on, so she was perfectly fine with it.

The sound of car doors slamming at the end of the alley was like having a bucket of cold water dumped on them. Both of them pulled back and stared at each other with wide unblinking eyes.

"I think I got 'em," the familiar voice of the guy from the club said.

"Then lets fuckin' go man, the cops'll be here soon."

"Wanna make sure. Stupid bitch had it coming."

"I'm leaving. You comin' or not, Dick?"

"Then go, ya fuckin' pussy."

The sound of a car starting and disappearing was followed by the sound of footsteps coming toward them on the gravely alley floor.

They'd just made out in the middle of a gun fight. And now the dangerous, mustachioed criminal named Dick was coming toward them.

Buffy quickly clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the wild burst of laughter that fought to get free. Sam looked at her like she was crazy, which just made her laugh all the harder, a soft snort coming from her nose as she tried to breath in and laugh at the same time. Sam shook his head and removed her from his lap, getting silently into a crouched position.

The seriousness of the situation finally came back to Buffy then. Just in time for Pornstache/Marco/Dick to round the corner. Moving quickly, she ducked around Sam and shoved his gun to the side so he wouldn't accidentally shoot her, then grabbed Dick's gun hand and yanked down at the same time she brought her elbow up into his face. There was a nasty crunching sound and he stumbled backwards, his grip on the gun releasing and sending it clattering on the ground. Buffy booted it towards Sam as she spun around and kicked the now bleeding and dazed man in the chest. He crashed against the opposite alley wall, cracking his head and falling into an unconscious heap on the ground.

"See, no guns needed," Buffy said, brushing some hair out of her face and sending a grin at Sam.

"That was almost as hot as the whip thing," Sam said, looking down at the unconscious man with raised eyebrows. Shaking his head and coming back to himself, Sam gave her a wide smile and tucked his gun back in his pants (wow, and did her mind ever go to all _kinds_ of dirty places with that phrase). Walking over he grabbed the guys arms and pulled him up, slinging him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"Lets drop this guy off and get home."

Home.

He'd said home. They were going _home_. Something warm fluttered in her chest and she almost smiled. Then the rest of his sentence repeated itself in her mind.

"Drop him off?"

"Yeah, I took Dawn's car, it's just around the corner. We'll take him to the station and then come back for your car," Sam said distractedly as he hauled the guy out of the alley.

Buffy panicked inside. She had no idea what to do with this guy! She was suddenly very grateful for how insanely thorough Dawn had been with this bounty hunter thing. At least she had all the proper documentation. She'd put in the new car's glove compartment under Dawn's watchful eyes just a few days ago.

"The paperwork's all in my car, we'll need to stop by to get it."

Sam nodded as they rounded the corner. There was Dawn's little silver Civic, parked just a few spots down from the club.

"How'd you get that spot? I had to park way over on a side street," Buffy grumped.

"Just lucky I guess," he said, shooting her a grin as he stuffed the skip in the backseat.

"Dawn's going to freak when she finds out we put some dirty criminal in her car," Buffy said with a snicker as she hopped into the passenger seat.

Sam groaned, "You can't tell her, she's already mad at me for some reason."

"I won't have to, she'll sniff it out. And why's she mad at you?"

"No clue," Sam said, following Buffy's pointed directions down the back streets around the club.

"Well, I wouldn't worry on it too much. She's not one to just silently stew. You'll know soon enough how mad she is and why, whether you want to or not."

Sam sighed in resignation and pulled up behind Buffy's little Nissan SUV. Looking around he turned his skeptical gaze on her. "Why don't you just follow me in your car? This isn't the best neighborhood to leave it sitting in."

"It'll be fine," Buffy said with a wave of her hand. No way was leaving Dick here alone with Sam. She couldn't have him finding out the only way they knew each other was from some ass grabbage inside the club. Hopping out, she gathered up all the crap Dawn had insisted she take from of the glove box and hurried back to the car. Sam programmed the police station into the GPS and they were there within five minutes. Sam parked right next to the door and Buffy hopped out.

"Uh, you wait here," she said, tugging the guy our of the back. "I'll be right back."

"Are you sure you-"

"Got a reputation to uphold," Buffy said with a wink while silently praying to the PTB that he'd stay in the damn car. "Can't let them think I let college boys do all the work for me."

Sam gave her a half smile and agreed, to Buffy's great relief. She put her acting skills to the test as she tried to find a balance between looking like she was struggling a little with the guy's weight but also doing well enough not to have Sam insist on helping.

"Got an FTA here," she said as she approached the front desk, trying to sound knowledgeable. The guy at the desk looked up and took in the picture in front of him - her, tiny and covered with alley-ick, and at Marco, bloody nosed and unconscious beside her. He shook his head with a laugh and called a few other cops to see them. The rest was surprisingly easy. They took the guy away, looked at her papers and gave her something called a "body receipt" and that was that.

"That was fun," Buffy said without thinking as she hopped back in the car next to Sam. She felt a kind of accomplishment at getting a criminal in jail - being a bounty hunter was kinda cool. Then, glancing over at Sam with a smile, she saw his questioning gaze remembered she was supposed to be a pro at this. Stumbling to correct herself she said, "Having you there. It was fun." Then seeing Sam trying not to laugh, she blushed, and added, "I mean, us working together. Not like in the smoochie sense - not that that wasn't fun- shutting up now…"

Sam laughed quietly and reached over, grabbing her hand and twining their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world. The rest of the ride was quiet, both just enjoying each others company and Buffy enjoying the feel of Sam's hand in her own. His fingers were long and lightly calloused. And warm, really warm.

"Uh-oh," his soft sound of distress drew her out of her study of his hand and she looked up, taking in their surroundings quickly. It looked familiar, but-

"Where's my car?" She asked, recognizing her parking spot.

"Told you to move it," Sam said, shaking his head.

"Someone stole my car! Crap, Giles is going to freak when I tell him I need _another _new car."

"Could be worse, could've been Dawn's car that got stolen."

They both shuddered at the thought. Neither of them wanted to face the wrath of Dawn.

* * *

Dawn's thoughts in the meantime were far from her car. She had important business to take care of.

"Wolfram and Hart, how may I direct your call?"

"I need to speak to Angel."

"I'm sorry, but-"

"Listen lady, I know he's busy. I know he's the head honcho and all that," Dawn said with an eye roll as she sat back on her bed. "But do you know who _I _am? I'm Dawn Summers and if I don't get to talk to Angel right now, I'm going to come there to talk to him in person. And you know who's going to follow me? My sister. Do you know what will happen when my sister walks in that building? It'll be like letting loose a wolf in a hen house."

"…one moment please."

Angel's voice came over the line less than thirty seconds later.

"Dawn? What's wrong? Is Buffy-"

"She's falling in love!" Dawn exclaimed throwing her free hand in the air, still disgusted with that fact.

"Love?" Angel repeated tightly, then sighed and continued on trying to sound uncaring and failing miserably. "Dawn, isn't that a good thing? Why are you calling me about it?"

"You need to get your butt down here! Seeing your face will hopefully remind her what a disaster being in love is."

"Thanks, Dawn…"

"Oh don't give me that 'wah, you're hurting my feelings crap', we both know Buffy and love equal disaster. I'm just trying to keep her from getting hurt again."

"So you want her to be alone? Forever?"

"Well, no… but we don't know anything about this guy! He's just some student here that she agreed to let live with her a couple weeks ago!"

"She let some guy she doesn't know live with her?"

"Yes! She's crazy, right? Just asking to get hurt!" Even Dawn felt a twinge uncomfortable with that one, but she figured her justification of trying to save her sister from heartache allowed her to twist things a little.

"She's a grown woman, Dawn, and it's none of my business."

"Well, at least see what you can find on the guy. Please?" Dawn begged, trying to sound pathetic.

"Fine," Angel answered with a sigh. "What's his name?"

"Sam Winchester," Dawn answered with a grin. She knew he'd look into it, and she also figured there was about a 80/20 chance he'd show up here in person despite what he'd said. She didn't like the thought of reminding Buffy of her past relationship failures, but if it kept her from getting hurt again, it was worth it. Right?

* * *

Angel sat in his office, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers lightly on the desk while his sour thoughts ran amok in his head. Buffy was falling for some guy at Stanford? He should be happy for her, he told himself. But he wasn't. He wanted to be, he wanted to be the man he'd tried to be when he left her in Sunnydale all those years ago. The man that wanted a regular life for her, a regular guy, a real relationship. But he couldn't. As much as he wanted to be that man, a little selfish part of him always remained that wanted her to be his and only his. He'd loved Cordy, he cared about Nina, but Buffy was right there at the core of him. Always had been, always would be.

Sighing, he sat forward and ran a hand over his face. He'd had this conversation with himself over and over. Nothing ever changed. Things were the way they were and that was all there was to it. He'd just have to do what he could to assure that she was with someone that deserved her. And because of that, he was willing to go along with Dawn's meddling.

So, he'd look into this Sam Winchester and see what he could find. Just to keep her safe.

Sam Winchester... Why did that name sound so familiar…


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Ten**

Sam woke early on Saturday morning. He and Buffy had a lot to talk about and he was both dreading and looking forward to it. There was a lot in the air between them that needed clearing up - what had happened the night before, what it meant, where this was going - those were the things that Sam was hopeful about. What he'd been doing in her office, why he had a gun, where he learned to shoot it - those were the parts he was dreading. Should he tell her the truth? Lie about it? Should it depend if they decided to try having a relationship? He sighed and flopped back down on his pillow, glaring at the ceiling. He just didn't know. He could really use his brother's advice about now, but he still hadn't called back. Was he just going to ignore Sam like Sam had ignored him for the last few years? He couldn't blame if he did. But what if it was something else? What if something was wrong?

And as if that wasn't enough crap to weigh on his mind, there was also his date with Jessica tonight that he still had no idea what to do about. Should he wait until he found out whether Buffy wanted to give being together a shot or not before making a decision? That seemed like a scummy thing to do though… Like he was leaving Jessica on the backburner as some kind of backup girl. Should he call to cancel or go and tell her in person?

Deciding that overwhelming himself was not the way to start the day, he pulled himself out of bed and slid on a pair of sweatpants then headed out to track down Buffy. He knew as soon as he stepped foot in the hallway that he was alone in the house - the warm sort of life and energy Buffy gave off was missing. Where the hell was she at eight in the morning on a Saturday? Brows furrowed and disappointment settling in his chest, he went to the kitchen. There, stuck to the fridge with Stanford magnet, was a note.

_Having breakfast with Dawn, then I have a meeting in Modesto. Should be home early tonight though. Maybe we can talk when I get back? -Buffy_

Sighing, Sam reheated some of the leftover coffee and plopped down at the island. No talking with Buffy until tonight then. He wondered how early she considered "early" to be… five, six, seven? He was supposed to be meeting Jessica at six. Well, that settled it then, he'd just have to cancel with Jessica by phone so he could be here when Buffy got back. Deciding that it was too early right then to call anyone on a Saturday, Sam spent the rest of the morning alternating between searching the garage for hex bags (there were none and it was far cleaner than any garage he'd ever seen), doing laundry and poking through his text books trying to study but mostly just replaying the night before in his mind.

He still remembered vividly the way his heart had almost choked him to death when he'd seen her laying in that alley. He'd watched her exit the club through a side door just moments after he'd arrived, but it had taken him a few minutes to catch up. When he'd finally gotten out there… He swallowed hard at the memory of her still form sprawled on the ground. She really was going to be the end of his sanity. Then of course there was the other assault on his mental well being - her practically attacking him behind the dumpster while they were being shot at. Not that he was complaining, her throwing herself on him with that sexy little growl had been one of the hottest things he'd ever experienced. Okay, not "one of", definitely _the_ hottest thing, number one on the list. It had been easy to forget about the danger with her writhing on top of him as if nothing in the world mattered as much as being as close as possible right at that moment. Shaking his head, he slammed his text book shut and went up for a cold shower.

A little after noon he manned up and pulled up Jessica's number on his phone. It took him about fifteen minutes of planning what to say before he hit the call button though. Unfortunately it proved to be a wasted effort because instead of Jessica, Sam got a deep voiced guy thanking him for calling Walt's Music Store and asking what he could help him with. Hanging up, he felt the first stirrings of panic setting in. He had Jessica's number wrong. It really shouldn't be a surprise since he was pretty much still in shock when she'd given it to him to program into his phone, but now he was screwed. Either he was the jerk that stood her up or he was the jerk that was out with another girl while Buffy was here possibly waiting on him.

Shit.

He paced around the house for an hour and a half then called Dean again - still no answer. Finally seating himself at the couch he decided to just think about this logically. Jessica had asked him out and he'd said yes, it was cruel to leave her waiting for someone who said he was going to be there and then not show up. If Buffy was upset with him when he got back then that was his own fault and he deserved it for being such an ass as to accept Jessica's offer when he obviously had feelings for Buffy in the first place. Nodding resolutely, he spent a little time in the yard pulling out the few weeds that had sprouted since Buffy had last been out there, then went in to shower again and get ready. It was still early, but Buffy had taken Dawn's car so he'd have to walk.

The early evening air was still and crisp, the sky clear as it faded from blue to orange. Even though his plans tonight were completely messed up and there was knot in his stomach about this date with Jessica, Sam couldn't help but enjoy the walk to the restaurant. This, this is why he'd left the hunting game. Hunter's didn't do things like this - enjoy leisurely walks in friendly, populated areas. They prowled the dark for things to kill, always looking backwards at what they'd lost, over their shoulder at something behind them or forward to the next hunt. They never appreciated the now. He'd seen the kind of man his father was, seen how Dean was slowly being shaped into the same mold and he didn't want that for himself. Yes, he had his own set of problems here and yes, he missed his family, but he still loved his life at Stanford. Hopefully he could make Dean and his dad accept that without them shutting him out and hopefully he'd be able to be a better son and brother as to not do the same again.

It took about twenty minutes to get to the little Italian restaurant they'd agreed to meet at. It was set back off a main road on the edge of campus, the dining room small, only having about twelve tables. One wall was all windows that looked out at the sidewalk and tiny little lights hung from the ceiling, giving it a private, soft feeling but not making it feel dim. Jessica wasn't there yet when he arrived and only two other couples were dining so he let the waitress seat him, assured Jessica wouldn't have any problem spotting him. He'd just be upfront with her, explain that she was great, but he had feelings for someone else. Hopefully she wouldn't throw wine in his face and storm out…

A few more minutes ticked by and he had a moment of skewed optimism thinking maybe she'd stood him up, but then, just before six, she walked in looking absolutely stunning. Her long blond hair was loose and curly around her the shoulders of her soft pink cardigan that she had over a floral printed dress. She looked adorably feminine and Sam felt like more of an asshole than ever.

"You look amazing," he said truthfully as she walked over, giving her a genuine smile.

She smiled back teasingly, "Well, anything would be an improvement to the way I look during class. You're just used to seeing me in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt."

"You're still the most beautiful girl in the room," he said immediately and honestly, then blushed and looked down. This wasn't how things were supposed to be going. He couldn't go on about how great she looked when he was planning on telling her this was a mistake. Shaking his head, he looked back up at her, hoping she could see the regret he felt. "Listen… Jessica-"

Then the waitress showed up to take their drink order, interrupting his momentary surge of courage. After both of them ordered a glass of wine and the girl scurried off, he was scraping together his nerve again when Jessica beat him to it.

"Go ahead," she said, leaning back in her chair a little and crossing her arms. "You look like you're a doctor that's about to tell me I'm dying. So just out with it."

"Sorry," he said, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Don't get me wrong, you're great and all. I've actually wanted to ask you out for a few months. But…"

"There's someone else?"

He looked up in surprise to find her watching his discomfort with a kind of sad amusement.

"Uh, yeah actually. Kind of…"

"Well, I can't say that I'm not disappointed. I've been hoping you'd ask me out for a couple months, too," she said with a sad little half smile and a shrug. "I shouldn't be surprised that someone else snatched you up in the meantime."

"She hasn't- I mean, we're not," Sam stuttered, feeling stupid and out of his depth.

"You like her but you're not sure she feels the same?"

"Well, I wasn't, but I am now. At least I think I am. I hope I am…"

"So, why'd you agree to go out with me if you liked someone else?"

Her tone was curious, not accusatory, but Sam still winced. "I meant it when I said I've liked you for a while, and things between me and… this other girl, it's not really the best situation for a relationship."

"So you were going out with me because you couldn't have her?" She asked with a raised eyebrow as she started flipping through the menu.

"No! Well, yes… but - god, I'm such a dick."

Jessica let out a light peal of laughter. "You're not a dick. You're actually so adorable it's almost painful. Whoever this girl is, she's lucky you decided to give it a shot with her, because, second choice or not, I'd scoop you up in a heartbeat."

She was laughing and he was blushing again with a relieved smile when the waitress reappeared with their wine and to take their orders. Sam told her what he wanted and let his gaze drift toward the large windows as Jessica started asking questions about a certain dish. A blur went by, catching his attention and making him sit up a little straighter. Seconds later another figure came into view directly in front of the window. Slight, blond, panting and looking around in irritation, Sam's breath caught in his throat as he recognized her. Buffy glanced in the window just as the dread hit him and then looked away. For a second, Sam thought maybe he'd gotten lucky, maybe she hadn't seen him despite the fact there were only two other couples in the room. Or maybe the lighting sent a glare off the window and prevented her from seeing in. He'd just started to breath out a sigh of relief when her head swiveled back around in a double take - wide, shocked eyes meeting his own then landing on Jessica. Her gaze turned back to Sam and he flinched as betrayal crumpled her features. Blond hair whipped around, catching the light from the restaurant and then she was gone.

"Oh shit," he hissed, startling both Jessica and the waitress as he jumped out of his chair. "I'm sorry, really sorry, but I have to go," he said, pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket and dropping it on the table before rushing out the door. He felt like an ass as he looked around, trying to catch sight of Buffy's fleeing form. No, not an ass. A double ass. Now both Buffy _and _Jessica were going to hate him. Damn it, he was such a screw up…

He wandered around the area for close to an hour looking for Buffy before finally giving up and heading back to the house. He hoped she'd be there, he had to explain, had to tell her that she was the one he wanted and how it was nothing more than a string of bad decisions that led him there. As he started up the walkway, he prayed to whatever higher power there was that she'd as least listen to him and not just throw him and his things out in the street.

There was a moment of hope and nervousness when he first noticed the figure waiting on the front porch. But it was dashed quickly when the person stood. Tall (not as tall as Sam himself, but few were), dark haired and pale, the man on the porch was a far cry from Buffy's small, blond, tan form. Dressed all in black, the stranger watched Sam approach with dark assessing eyes. Something about the guy set Sam on edge and he slowed his steps.

Just what the night needed, another complication.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Eleven**

Angel looked out over then darkened lawn in front of Buffy's house and pictured her there in that swing, maybe drinking a cup of coffee first thing in the morning and watching the sun come up, or maybe during a summer storm one afternoon, listening to the hiss of the rain. It was a nice thought, one that he'd love to see in person but since he couldn't, all it served to do was remind him why they couldn't be together. Why he really shouldn't be here at all right now. But after what Wesley and Gun had come up with on Sam Winchester he'd hopped on a private Wolfram and Hart Jet almost immediately and headed up to Palo Alto.

"_Angel, this Sam Winchester you've asked me to look into… what's come up is rather worrisome," Wesley said as he came into his office with a couple of books and papers, Gun trailing behind him. _

"_Worrisome how?" Angel asked, standing as Wesley and Gun approached the desk and Wesley dropped his pile on Angel's desk with a sigh._

"_First of all, he's from a long line of hunters," Gun said. "Father is a badass named John Winchester, known in just about every supernatural circle as the guy you don't want to meet in a dark alley. Sam's brother, Dean, is also making a name for himself. His mother, Mary, was raised in a hunting family and her father, Samuel, was also pretty well known. The list goes back pretty far."_

_So Buffy was dating a hunter… It shouldn't be a surprise, but it still was. While both hunters and Slayers saved people, hunted evil, Buffy wasn't one to see things in just black and white, while that's all hunters did. Now Angel knew why the name Winchester sounded so familiar. He'd almost ended up on the pointy end of John Winchester's stake back in the late 80's due to that "not human equals evil" mindset. _

"_But then, when we dug a little deeper, that's when things got weird," Gunn went on, shaking Angel from his memories._

"_It seems that on Sam's six month birthday a demon came to their home and killed his mother," Wesley said._

"_Hate to sound callous, Wes, but people getting killed by demons isn't so weird," Angel said, lost as to where he was going with this._

"_Don't you read anything I give you," he asked with an eye roll while he started digging through Angel's inbox. "It wasn't the fact that she died, it was the _manner_ in which she was killed. Here!"_

_Holding up the file Angel vaguely remembered Wesley dropping off and telling him to take a look at, he shifted his feet and gave a defensive shrug. "Lots of things come in here, important documents and whatnot. Have to prioritize. I was going to get to it."_

_Gunn shook his head and gave Angel the "you're so full of shit" look. "Well, you should pay more attention, because this is big. Apocalypse big."_

"_Indeed," Wesley added giving Angel a chastising look. "A few weeks ago, Gunn came across an interesting contract. One that didn't involve Wolfram and Hart actually doing anything, just staying out of the way should certain events occur. And that included staying away from a list of particular people no matter how many times they may pop up on their radar."_

"_Wait, I'm lost," Angel said, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried to shift the information around in his head to fit the big picture. "The guy I asked you to look into, Sam Winchester, the hunter, had his mother killed by a demon when he was six months old… and that has what to do with the apocalypse? And where does the contract that tells Wolfram and Hart to back off come into this?"_

"_Azazel," Wesley said, flipping open one of the books and turning for Angel to see. "Conduit to Lucifer himself. This is the demon that killed Sam Winchesters mother." _

"_And the mothers of all of these children as well," Gunn added, setting a page next to the open book. "He came to all their houses on their six month birthdays and roasted them on the ceiling."_

_Angel cringed at the mental picture while staring at the distorted woodcut image of the demon, surrounded by fire and a look of glee painted on its hideous face. The entire picture was black and white, but the eyes were painted a vivid yellow. _

"_It's also believed that he visited these children on their birthdays as well," Wesley said, pulling out another sheet of paper. "But he didn't kill their mothers. We're assuming that he only killed those that tried to interfere with what he was doing."_

"_Which was what exactly?" Angel asked, a feeling of dread pooling in his stomach. Just who, or what, was Buffy sharing her house (and possibly her heart) with?_

_Wesley pulled out another ancient book and opened it to show Angel. "We believe he was acting out this ritual, which involves the ingestion of demon blood."_

"_He gave these kids his blood?" He asked, his lip pulling back in disgust. "Why? What would that do?"_

"_Nothing immediately, but over time the blood would give them demonic powers. It's impossible to tell what exactly or the limitations, but they'd have the potential to be very powerful."_

"_As to the why," Gunn said. "We think he's either trying to build an army or find someone who ends up with just the right power he's looking for. Wes says it's impossible to tell what each kid will be able to do, so if he's looking for one in particular, he'd just have to wait and see."_

"_But what's he plan to do with them?"_

"_I'm not sure exactly how they fit in, but I believe his end game is to release Lucifer from his cage," Wesley said flatly, killing the conversation and leaving a heavy silence in the wake of his declaration. _

_Lucifer… That would explain Wolfram and Hart's willingness to stay out of the way. That was over even their heads. And Buffy's new boyfriend somehow fit into this? Then a horrifying thought hit him - what if he did to Buffy the same thing Angel himself had. Loved her, cherished her, then turned on her like a rabid animal?_

"_Wait," he said, stopping the flow of panic in its tracks. "You said this Azazel gave them his blood to activate demonic powers. Does that mean they're going to be evil? I mean, Slayers are imbued with demonic power, too."_

"_Excellent point, Angel," Wesley said, looking thoughtful as he took a seat. "I suppose their powers could be used in any way, just as a demon's could. It's who they are that will determine what powers those are, so it stands to reason that that will also determine what they do with that power."_

"_Come on, man," Gunn said, shaking his head and looking skeptical. "Slayers weren't made by demons, they just got some demonic mojo to even the playing field. This isn't the same. Who's to say that a human with demon blood in him wouldn't automatically lean toward the evil side?"_

_Angel was, that's who. Even though it was part of his deal with Wolfram and Hart that no one remember Connor, Angel still remembered his son vividly. A boy that was lost and confused, but was good at his core - and also had demon blood. Demon blood he didn't ask for, demon blood that he hated. Now, here he was living a regular life, a good life, not knowing about the darkness that swirled inside of him. A lot like one Sam Winchester if he wasn't mistaken._

"_I'm going to meet him and find out," Angel said, picking up the phone and calling out. "Harmony, have them get a jet ready. I'm going to Palo Alto."_

"_You think you can just know if he's evil by meeting with him?" Gun asked in disbelief. _

"_That's all we can do right now," Wesley said. "They're just people, they didn't ask for this. If they turn, then we'll have to take some kind of action, but until then all we can do is watch."_

"_Make sure all the people on those lists are under surveillance," Angel said on his way to the door. "Find some way for us to work around that stupid contract. Oh, and find Azazel and a way to kill him. I think it's time he got shut down."_

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Angel from his thoughts and he stood from the swing as the person approached. Tall and lean, the guy looked back at him warily, his steps slowing before he reached the stairs to the porch.

_Good instincts…_

The faint scent of Buffy that surrounded him told him this guy shared space with her often, so he guessed that this must be Sam. His longish hair and the slightly suspicious look on his face gave Angel another pang as Conner came to mind again. Okay, he was going to have to stop that, because relating the love of his life's new guy to his son was just… yeah, something wrong there.

"Something I can help you with?"

"I was just waiting for Buffy. Guess I missed her though, thought I'd wait for a little while," Angel said. "And you are?"

"Sam," he said, stopping at the bottom of the steps. "Buffy's been nice enough to let me stay here for a little while."

"That's Buffy, always putting others before herself," Angel said, his words a little tight. Sam's eyes narrowed, showing he got the subtext of "people like you are always taking advantage of her" quite clearly.

"Yeah, she's pretty amazing like that. I'm sorry, who are you again?"

"Angel," he said. "Buffy and I are old friends. I'm in town from LA and was hoping to see her before I had to head back."

"Oh, well-" Sam started, his brows furrowed a little. It was obvious to Angel that he hadn't heard of him before, which was both annoyed him a little and gave him a burst of relief. It bothered him more than it should that Buffy hadn't mentioned him before, but if Sam didn't know who he was, he also didn't know he was vampire so he didn't have to worry about getting attacked with sharp and pointy objects. The unsure look on Sam's face also said that he didn't really trust Angel, but didn't want to be rude to someone that Buffy was friends with. Before he could go on though, the sound of shuffling footsteps had them both turning their heads toward the darkened walkway.

After a few seconds an old woman came into view, making her way slowly up the walkway holding a plate. Angel had heard her moving around on the edge of the property since he'd arrived, but this was the first he'd seen of her. She was small and slightly stooped, the yellow porch lights glinted off her light purple hair.

"Hello there, Samuel," the old woman said, coming to a stop next to Sam and craning her neck so far back to look up at him that Angel was worried her brittle old bones might snap.

"Hi, Mrs. Stanowski," Sam said grimacing slightly.

"I baked some cookies for Dawn. I certainly hope she's feeling better after her ordeal," she said, handing the plate to Sam. "There's a card on top for a very good anger management councilor."

Angel cocked his head at the odd statement as Sam hesitantly took the plate from the woman. Ordeal? Anger management? Before he could ask, she turned her eyes on him.

"And who might this be," she asked, her eyes raking Angel in a way that made him want to step back. "Is he here for the threesome?

"Threesome?" Angel asked, determinedly telling himself that his voice hadn't just squeaked.

Sam was looking half horrified, half resigned, "There is no threesome, Mrs. Stanowski."

"Nonsense, you definitely need a third person for that bondage stuff I know you and Buffy are into. This time, when you're whipping her, this one can-"

"Whipping? You were whipping Buffy?" Angel interrupted, completely lost but outraged at the thought this guy _whipping_ his Buffy. No, not his. The Buffy. No that wasn't right either-

"Oh no, dear. She was whipping _him_. Right there in the entrance. He was begging her to stop, but she just told him to be quiet and take it like a man. I just thought it would be his turn this time."

"That never happened," Sam said, rubbing his face with the hand not holding the plate.

"Don't be silly, I saw it with my own eyes. I was just telling Mrs. Rose down the street-"

Sam's gaze was traveling between the old woman, Angel and the front door as she was speaking and Angel could tell the moment he decided Angel was the lesser of two evils. His eyes got a determined glint that made Angel want to laugh a little and he started edging away from still babbling woman.

"It was nice seeing you Mrs. Stanowski. We're heading in now, so we'll see you later," Sam said as soon as she paused for a breath, moving backwards toward the door. Whispering at Angel when he got closer, "Hurry and get inside before she starts talking about orgies."

Angel was all ready with his excuse of how he wouldn't want to intrude, but the thought of staying out here to listen to this Mrs. Stanowski talk about orgies combined with his curiosity had him testing the housing barrier anyway.

He walked in with ease.

He stopped dead in the entryway as Sam closed the door behind him, something horrible and thorny twisting in his chest (figuratively this time, he'd had that happen literally once and knew what it felt like). The fact that Sam could offer an invitation into this house meant not only did Sam think of it as his home, but Buffy thought of it as his home as well.

"Sorry about that," Sam was saying as he kicked off his shoes. Angel numbly followed his lead and trailed after him into the kitchen. Sam glanced back at him and gave him a pitying look. "I take it from that sick look on your face that you've never met Mrs. Stanowski before?"

"No, this is my first time here," he answered. Hot pokers couldn't make him admit he looked like that not from the crazy old lady, but because of Sam's obviously concreted presence here in Buffy's life.

"You're old friends but you haven't been here before?" Sam asked, shooting him a curious yet skeptical look as he sat the cookies down on the counter.

"I've been busy, haven't had a chance to come see the new place yet," he answered a little defensively.

"Oh, so what do you do in L.A. that keeps you so busy?" Sam asked, the fact his tone was curious and not critical made Angel relax a little. The guy seemed so… normal, so far. He wasn't getting any demonic vibes off of him or sensing any ulterior motives for him being there. And Angel had been in L.A. and at Wolfram and Hart long enough to sense both a mile away.

"I run the Los Angeles branch of a law firm called Wolfram and Hart," he answered, taking a seat at the island across from Sam.

"Wolfram and Hart?" Sam asked with wide eyes. "Sorry, it's just… I'm prelaw and… wow, Wolfram and Hart…"

"It's not… it's not somewhere college students should be aspiring to work," Angel answered, his hands clenching out of Sam's view. He absolutely _hated_ that they had some kind of awe inspiring reputation among college kids.

"It's one of the biggest law firms in the world. The level of expertise it takes to-"

"Trust me. It takes something much different that expertise to work at Wolfram and Hart. Like lacking a soul and having no moral compass," Angel bit out cutting him off.

"You talk like that about the company you run?" Sam asked slowly, obviously confused.

"There were… extenuating circumstances to me accepting the position," Angel answered, looking away. Again, his mind drifted back to Connor. Deciding to change the subject, he nodded at the small square of white Sam had sat on the counter. "What's with the anger management card?"

"Oh, well Dawn was out with a guy the other night and I guess he was a little… 'handsy' was the word Dawn used. She thoroughly kicked his ass and sent him to the hospital," Sam said with a smirk. "But she also got arrested for it."

"Damn it, why didn't she call me?" Angel wondered out loud, reaching for his phone. "I'll have it-"

"It's already taken care of," Sam said, sniffing one of the cookies. "I got the kid to drop the charges."

"And how exactly did you do that?" Angel asked, taken aback and fumbling with his now unneeded phone.

"I just had a little talk with him," Sam said, not meeting his eyes and turning toward the fridge. "Convinced him maybe it wouldn't be the best idea for him to press charges."

At first his suspicious behavior made Angel wary - had he done something with his demon powers to convince the kid? But then it hit him, "You threatened him…"

"Maybe a little," Sam admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and setting the Coke down on the counter with the other. "Want one?"

Angel sighed and smiled slightly, "No, but thank you."

He'd be damned if he wasn't starting to like the guy. Well, he'd be damned anyway… not the point. He seemed earnest and forthright, but with a little bit of an edge. Those were all qualities he shared with one Riley Finn, but for some reason Angel didn't feel the need to pummel Sam like he had Riley. Both were also hunters, but- wait, if Sam was a hunter, why was he handing out invitations to strangers? Shouldn't he know better? And there was the difference, he realized. Riley was a little cocky and self-assured, whereas Sam was a little awkward and unsure. Not like a hunter at all, more like a normal guy. He was wary, but wanted to believe the best in people. He didn't automatically assume that everyone was a potential threat, his mind didn't automatically go to worst case scenario. Riley lived and breathed the hunt, being a soldier was his definition of self. Sam Winchester obviously didn't want being a hunter to define who he was. A lot like a certain Slayer he knew…

"So, how'd you and Buffy meet?" Angel asked, wanting to get to know the guy even more now that he'd decided that maybe he wasn't so bad after all. If he was really going to be part of Buffy's life then Angel wanted to take this (probably rare) opportunity to get to know the guy that would be with the girl he loved.

"Through Dawn. She heard I needed a place to stay and everything after that is kind of a blur," Sam said with a head shake and a small grin. "She can be a little… relentless."

"That she can," Angel muttered. That little… she made it sound like Buffy had just picked up some random guy off the street and let him live there. When actually it was _Dawn_ that picked up some random guy off the street and _insisted_ he live there. What was she up to?

"How long have you known Buffy?" Sam asked, nibbling cautiously on one of the cookies Mrs. Stanowski had baked.

"Feels like a lifetime," Angel said quietly, his eyes drifting to the picture of her on the fridge. It did feel like a lifetime, too. He'd lived for a couple of those before he met her, but it hadn't actually been _living_ (again in a figurative sense, since he'd technically been dead…). He'd just been watching the world go by until her. She made him part of it.

"You and Buffy were…" Sam said, watching him closely with a closed expression.

"When she was in high school," Angel answered with a nod, knowing what Sam was getting at. "Things just… they didn't work out."

"You still love her," Sam said bluntly, his voice taking on an accusing edge.

"Buffy's not the kind of girl you ever _stop_ loving. Once she's in your heart," Angel paused, shaking his head with a small smile. "She's there for good. Everyone from then on is just trying to measure up and falling short. You should know that now. Before you screw it up and spend forever wondering 'what if'."

Sam winced, and Angel wondered if maybe he had overstepped his bounds. The house smelled strongly of both of them, but not in a "together" kind of way (thank the PTB, because he'd rather spend an entire evening with the crazy woman next door _and_ hot pokers than have to sit in a house that smelled like Buffy and other guy sex). Maybe they weren't actually dating yet, just still playing the "I like you, you like me, but we're not going to come out and say it" game. That brought up a new question, one that hadn't even occurred to Angel. Just how much did they know about each other? Did Buffy even know he was a hunter? And did he know she was the Slayer? Well, "a" Slayer, now…

And as if that thought had summoned her - reaching into the ether and tickling her senses, letting her know that someone had forgotten about her and needed an ass kicking reminder - the front door opened and she called out, filling the house with her presence.

"Yo, B! What's with the kinky old lady outside? She asked if I was here for the orgy."

A bark of laughter proceeded Faith into the kitchen where she stopped in the doorway. There she stood in all her leather clad resplendent glory, bag over her shoulder and a smirk on her lips.

"Dude, did I get the wrong house? Is this the hot guy orgy house, because, gotta say, not gonna complain."

"Faith," Angel said with a nod, used to her antics. Sam on the other hand seemed to be stuck on the leather pants.

"Angel," she nodded back, dropping her back on the ground with a loud clank. "I take that back, an orgy with you might end a little on the ugly side. Though I'm not sure any orgy ends pretty…"

"Uh, no orgies," Sam said, finding his tongue and moving towards Faith. "The neighbor just has a vivid imagination."

"And you are," Faith asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sam," he said, offering her his hand. "Buffy's been letting me stay here."

"No shit," she asked with raised eyebrows as she looked Sam over head to toe and shook his hand. "Hope she's gettin' some perks."

Sam blushed and stammered while Faith laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, then turned her attention on Angel.

"So, that explains him, but what are _you_ doing here?"

"Just paying Buffy a visit…" He said, looking away guiltily.

Faith looked back and forth between Sam and him, her face shifting from amusement and curiosity to disbelief.

"Oh man, tell me you're not… Are you playing the possessive ex? Damn I'm glad I decided to stop by. I'm gonna get a front row seat to Buffy kicking your _ass_."

Faith walked around Sam and leaned a hip against the counter while grabbing a cookie. Angel kept silent, not wanting to get into why he was really there. First of all because he wasn't sure what Sam knew about Buffy and didn't want to be the one to bring her secrets into the light (she really _would _kick his ass then), but also because there was no reason for Sam to know what they'd found out about him and his mother and the demon. If his team tracked down Azazel and killed him like he was planning, it wouldn't ever matter. His powers might never manifest at all with the originator gone and he could spend his life never knowing. Something he hoped with every fiber of his being would be the same for his own son regarding his demonic heritage and the dark past he knew nothing of.

"Listen Angel, I respect you, okay," Faith said biting off a cookie chunk and continuing with a full mouth. "Not an easy thing with hair like that and not many people get that from me. But this? Not cool, man. I suggest you take a hike before B gets back and finds you here."

Deciding to take this as an out, Angel nodded.

"Yeah, you're right. It was nice meeting you, Sam. Sorry for intruding."

He'd come here to learn about Sam Winchester. To meet him in person and find out if he was a threat to Buffy. He'd done that. Sam wasn't dangerous, of that he was sure. The only thing Sam threatened to do was make the girl Angel loved happy. There was no reason to stay here and open old wounds for Buffy.

He got up and moved out of the kitchen and toward the front door, Faith and Sam trailing behind.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait," Sam asked, looking a little confused at the turn of events.

"I'm sure. Actually, it might be better if you don't mention I was here at all."

"Good call. I'd take him up on that," Faith added.

Looking over at her, he smiled slightly. "Stop in L.A. sometime. It's been too long."

Faith scoffed, even though a smile tugged at her lips. "And what? Come walkin' into Evil Inc. and 'do lunch'? I know you got your own thing goin' on there, but if it's all the same, I think I'll stay out of the lion's den."

"I thought walking into the lion's den was what you were all about."

"Times they are a changin', Angel," she answered, still smiling but looking a little more sincere. She'd changed so much. He was so proud of her…

He was about to tell her so, just to embarrass her, when the loud, guttural growl of a motorcycle roared down the street, reaching its peak in front of the house before cutting off.

"Oh no," Angel muttered darkly, yanking the door open.

The porch lights glinted off Spike's platinum hair as he swaggered up the walk, cigarette in hand and a pissed off look on his face.

"Bloody hell, Peaches! You think you can just keep something like this from me! I gotta right to know about-"

Whatever the hell Spike thought he had a "right to know about" was cut off as another car pulled into the driveway. This one a silver civic. Angel groaned, knowing who it was before the doors even opened, revealing the two shocked Summers sisters.

Then all hell broke loose.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Author's Note:** Going to jump back in the timeline here a little and pick things up from Buffy's point of view.

**Chapter Twelve**

Buffy pushed a strand of blond hair out of her face roughly. This day had been sliding downhill from the moment Dawn had called her at six thirty on a Saturday morning. She should have known it was going to lead to no good. She'd wanted to talk to Sam before she had to be in Modesto, but Dawn really wanted to have breakfast together. So, feeling that good big sister goal kick in, she agreed. She wished now that she'd stuck to being a crappy sister.

"_Here, I don't know what to do with that," Buffy said, handing the body receipt over to Dawn along with her car keys as she slid into the seat across from her. The diner was practically empty. Big surprise - Saturday morning on campus, everyone else was (smartly) still asleep. _

_Dawn gaped at the paper for a second before looking up at Buffy. _

"_You mean you actually caught a skip?"_

"_Yep. Well, Sam and I caught a skip. So whatever the bounty thingy equals, I guess I should split with him."_

"_You and Sam went on a bounty hunt? A real bounty hunt?"_

"_No, I was after a vamp and Sam just kinda popped up. Then, bam, there was Pornstashe the Felon, shooting at us," she gave a shoulder shrug as she reached for her coffee and took a sip. "Sam was pretty amazing actually. Maybe I should give him the whole bounty. He was all intense and in control. And his forearms… And his body… And that kiss…"_

_Buffy's eyes glazed over at the thought of that kiss… Kissing Sam wasn't what she'd been expecting at all. It was… wow. No, more like WOW. All of Angel's tenderness and all of Spikes raw animalistic lust rolled into one and multiplied by ten. Then her thoughts wandered to what was going to happen later. If he affected her like that with one kiss what would happen when- _

_A quiver ran its way through her and her mind shut down for a second._

"_Did you just have an orgasm at the breakfast table?" Dawn asked, watching her with a raised eyebrow._

"_What? No!"_

_Though she just might if she kept thinking about Sam like that…_

"_That's it, we need to talk," Dawn said, a dark look on her face as she got out of her chair and yanked Buffy to her feet by her wrist._

"_Dawn, we haven't even eaten-"_

"_Don't care. This can't wait anymore."_

_They'd barely gotten outside when Dawn rounded on her on the deserted sidewalk. _

"_What the hell are you doing?"_

"_Uh, well I thought I was going to have breakfast but apparently I'm doomed to starve. What are _you_ doing?"_

"_You're falling in love with Sam! That's what you're doing! And it's just- You can't!"_

"_I'm what? I mean, well… alright, I like him. And he kisses like.. Like…" _

_Again her thought drifted back to that kiss, his body pressed against hers… A sudden pain in her arm brought her back to the here and now and she looked down to see Dawn pinching her._

"_Ow! Stop that!" She said, smacking Dawn's hand away and rubbing the spot on her arm._

"_No, _you_ stop that!" Dawn shot back, stomping her foot. "You're supposed to be having wild monkey sex with him! Not falling in love!"_

"_I'm supposed to be doing what now?" Buffy asked, totally lost. Not that wild monkey sex with Sam was out of the question…_

"_I saw you the other night! You were totally planning on cuddling and marriage and babies!"_

"_What the- Have you been hanging out with Mrs. Stanowski? Because I have no idea where you're coming up with this stuff."_

"_Don't try to act like you're not into him," Dawn growled, her eyes narrowed. Buffy realized then that her sister was completely serious and _really_ angry. _

"_What is this? Did you- Do _you_ like Sam? I thought you just said I was supposed to be having 'wild monkey sex with him'?"_

"_I got Sam to move in there so you'd stay out of my life!" Dawn said throwing her hands in the air. "I wanted you to have him as like a… hobby. A sexy hobby that kept you busy so you'd stop handing out sweaters like someone's grandma and stop embarrassing me."_

"_Embarrassing you…"_

"_Yes! Stop this 'Joe Normal' crap, Buffy! You're not normal! You're not meant to bake cookies and clean the house and be mom! And this thing with Sam is just ridiculous! After how all your other relationships turned out, how can you think this will work?"_

_Suddenly there wasn't enough air. Even though the day was beautiful and clear, an abundance of air to be had, Buffy couldn't breath. Dawn was breathing hard though, her cheeks flushed and her hands clenched. Slowly her face paled as she stared back at Buffy._

"_That's not- that came out wrong," she said shaking her head and dropping her gaze. "I didn't mean-"_

"_You didn't mean what?" Buffy said, her hands shaking as anger washed over her. "You didn't mean that you wish I'd take my freaky life and leave you in peace? That me being a supportive sister and even a fraction of what mom was is completely impossible? That having a normal, nice guy like Sam for anything other than sex is impossible for an outcast like me? Well, screw you Dawn. You know why I'm here? Because of you. Because I was stupid enough to think I could make up for all the times I wasn't there for you. You don't want me around, but I find someone I think I can care about, that might make me happy and suddenly you're pissed. What is that? You know what, whatever. I've gotta go."_

And that was that. She'd left her sister standing on the sidewalk and marched down the block holding back the tears. She'd thought they'd have some sisterly bonding moment or something when she told Dawn that she had feelings for Sam, but she was sorely mistaken. She'd known Dawn got annoyed with her, but what sisters didn't get aggravated by each other? She never thought she actually resented her presence here in Palo Alto. Embarrassed her? Really? Okay, some of the stuff Mrs. Stanowski came up with was pretty wild, and she was _really_ thorough in spreading it around, but did Dawn really care about stuff like that? And alright, she might have made a little bit of a scene when they moved her into her dorm room and said something along the lines of "You're getting so big!" and the sweater thing maybe wasn't her finest moment. Then there was the time-

Oh crap.

So before noon, she'd already had a fight with her sister and realized she really was a complete embarrassment. Then she started questioning what she'd said about Sam. Really, it was ridiculous wasn't it? How long did she think she could keep this "bounty hunter" cover going? And what kind of relationship would it really be if she was constantly lying?

Then, to make matters worse, she'd had to take a cab all the way to Modesto since her car was MIA and she'd left Dawn's car with her. It'd smelled like liquor soaked socks in the cab and the drive wasn't exactly short, but she'd smelled worse things so she just rolled the window down and tried to think of happy, non-stinky places. She was supposed to be meeting with the other area Slayers plus a watcher and a couple newbies he'd scraped up. Faith was going to be there, too. She'd been down near the Mexican border with a team taking care of an impending apocalypse and wanted to stop by while she was in the area and meet the new mini-Slayers. The other Slayer came with her own set of headaches, but Buffy was glad to hear she'd be there to help out. Unfortunately, she never showed, so Buffy alone had had to deal with three new Slayers that acted like they'd eaten too much sugar, three regional Slayers that had a case of hero worship and were staring at her in a way that totally creeped her out, and a Watcher that was stiffer and more prim than Wesley had been when he'd first arrived in Sunnydale. She thought maybe Hell might be a little like that meeting…

She'd taken a cab (this one a little less smelly thankfully) back to Palo Alto after the meeting that didn't want to end. It was later than she'd wanted but still early for her standards. Despite her earlier reservations, she'd _really_ been feeling like letting off a little of the day's tension in a very particular way. One that involved a tall, hot guy with a fantastic smile running his hands all over her body. She'd been watching the scenery go by, just getting to the good part of her fantasy about what exactly Sam could do with those hands, when a necking couple caught her eye in the shadows of a building they just past.

Except they weren't necking. Crap.

"Stop the car," Buffy said unenthusiastically. She shoved a handful of bills at the surprised driver and hopped out, taking off at a run back toward the vampire and his dinner.

But of course, instead of being all cocky and coming at her like 99% of the vamps did, this one took off at the speed of light, leading Buffy on a chase on the outskirts of the Stanford campus. So now here she was, looking for her wayward vamp who she managed to lose sight of. She pushed her hair out of her face and scanned the area again, only letting her eyes skim over the occupants of the restaurant to her right. She doubted he'd dodged into some Italian place. She was looking back down the street at a dark tree lined area when her brain finally processed what she'd seen through that window. Whipping her head back around, she stared right back at a shocked Sam. Then her eyes drifted to the person he was sharing his table with. A pretty blond sat across from him, bent over a menu and talking to the waitress. Buffy's heart stuttered. Was he… Was he on a _date_? The look on his face when her eyes found him again told her yes, he was indeed on a date. He'd been making out with her in an alley last night and he was on a date with some other girl tonight. Not wanting to look at him and her together one second longer, Buffy spun and took off.

She almost didn't see the vampire she'd been searching for until she was almost on top of him. So distracted by her hurt feelings that she had completely missed him trying to hide in the tree lined parking lot she'd been looking at earlier. As if sensing not only that she'd seen him, but that she was in a seriously bad mood now, he let out a scared little "eep!" and tried to make a run for it again. Buffy chased him down with a single mined intensity, channeling all her negative feelings into catching this one vampire. Unfortunately she was still wound up after she finally caught him, and after pummeling and staking the him, she still felt crappy.

More that that she felt stupid. And for two contradictory reasons at that - she felt stupid because she thought he'd liked her and she felt stupid because she was really in no position to be mad at all. They got along great, laughed at the same things, enjoyed their time together. So knowing he was out dating someone else was not only a stab to her heart, but to her pride as well. Had she completely misjudged things between them? But then there was the fact that she actually barely knew this guy. He lived in her house, they'd kissed once - but she really had no claim on him. They weren't in a relationship. He could date whoever he wanted.

_She_ had been the one to basically throw herself at him last night, after all. Yes, he'd kissed back but… She rolled her eyes at herself - she could do this all day. This over-analyzing and rationalizing, it was a never ending circle and if she didn't cut it off now, she'd just make herself more miserable. She could have called any of her friends and gotten a sympathetic ear. But that's not what she wanted. She wanted outrage, she wanted someone to eat ice cream next to her and plan out horrible revenge that made her laugh so hard that she forgot what she was so upset about in the first place. Dawn had done that for her when they'd learned about Spike being alive and it was what she wanted now. So even though she wasn't in the mood for any I-told-you-so's, she pulled out her phone and dialed her sister.

"I was an idiot," Buffy said softly as soon as Dawn answered. "You were right. I should've never…"

"Buffy? What are you- what happened?"

"He was on a date Dawn! I saw him," Buffy burst out. Then all the energy fled out of her and she plopped down on a curb.

"Who was on a date? Sam? Where are you?"

"Yes, Sam. And I don't know," Buffy said resting her cheek on her fist and not caring that she sounded like a pouting eight year old. "There's a bunch of trees and I think I see a big stone church steeple."

"Okay, I know about where you are," Dawn said, the sound of keys rattling in the background. "Go toward the church and I'll meet you."

Giving a sigh and hoping reconciling their earlier argument wouldn't be a huge deal (she was just too tired for that), Buffy pulled herself up and started toward the church, dragging her feet a little. About fifteen minutes later, she heard a car pull up next to her as she plodded down the dark street. Looking over at Dawn's car, she had second thoughts about calling her sister. She did tend to make bad situations worse… And Buffy didn't know if she could take any more "you're an embarrassment" talk. Oh well, too late for that now.

Sliding into the passenger seat, Buffy stared straight ahead and waited for the inevitable. When they'd gone a couple blocks and it still hadn't come, she glanced over at Dawn and braced herself as she opened the floodgates.

"Go ahead and gloat. You were right, I suck at love and never should have looked twice at Sam Winchester."

"Actually, I was going to tell you I was wrong," Dawn said slowly, looking like it pained her to admit it. "If you want Sam, you should have him."

"Oh… well, that doesn't matter now," Buffy said, her shock turning a little bitter. "There won't be any having of Sam since he's obviously interested in someone else"

"Are you sure? He was really on a date? Did you ask him what the hell was going on?"

"No, but it was definitely a date."

"You shouldn't run off before people get a chance to explain themselves," Dawn said, pulling over and putting the car in park. "People make mistakes and misunderstandings happen. And you should answer your freaking phone when someone tries calling you twelve times to try and fix things."

Okay, so obviously not talking about Sam anymore. Buffy _had_ felt a little bad about ignoring Dawn's calls all day, but she couldn't get into a fight with her while she was supposed to be all in Chief Slayer mode.

"You don't need to say anything, Dawn," Buffy said. "I realized I was being overbearing and a total pain. I really didn't mean to embarrass you, but now I see that I got carried away. You just put up with so much from me over the years, I wanted to give something back to you. Be the sister I should have been all along. I-"

"No, Buffy, what I said earlier, it came out all wrong," Dawn said shaking her head and interrupting her. "Did you embarrass the crap out of me when you brought that sweater? Yes, but it's because I'm not a little kid anymore, Buffy. I'm in college now and I'd rather you treated me like a sister, an equal, not like I was ten and you're my mom. And the thing about you not fitting in," she looked up and stared right in Buffy's eyes, her jaw jutted out in determination. "It's because I want you to be you. You shouldn't have to change for anyone, that's why I was getting so mad. You saved the world so many times! You saved _me_. You should do whatever you want, whatever makes you happy and everyone else should just shut up and deal with it."

"I wanted to be better. For you," Buffy sniffed a little, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders knowing Dawn actually just wanted her to be herself and wasn't pissed she had a sister that was magnet for the bizarre.

"You don't have to change for me! I love you, Buffy, you're my big sister. You _died_ for me! There _nothing_ you can do that will make you _better_."

They hugged over the consol and gave each other big watery smiles when they pulled back.

"And this thing with Sam… I just didn't want you to get hurt," Dawn said, shaking her head and putting the car back in drive. "I mean, I kinda gave him to you like an Xbox - something to play with but not really interfere with your life. When it looked like you were falling for him, I kinda freaked a little. With all this pretending to be someone else, I just was worried you'd get hurt."

"Well, no worries there anymore," Buffy said with an eye roll. "I totally misjudged that situation. I thought we had mutual tinglies, but I guess I was wrong."

"Psh, don't be stupid," Dawn said, regaining her haughty attitude now that the caring and sharing was over. "He was totally into you, I could tell. Whoever this chick is, no way is she hotter than you. We're going back to the house and he's going to explain himself. And if he can't… well, we'll just tie him naked to an office chair and leave him on Mrs. Stanowski's porch then set all his clothes on fire."

Buffy burst out laughing, not able to stop until they were halfway back to the house and her stomach hurt.

"Well, now that we're all warm and fuzzy I guess I should tell you some bad news…" Dawn said after Buffy had quieted, her eyes determinedly staying on the road. "I kinda called Angel and told him about Sam and tried to get him to check him out. And maybe come up here…"

Buffy's mouth fell open as she spun her whole body in her seat to face Dawn completely.

"You didn't…"

"I did. I'm so sorry!"

"Well, you'll just have to call him," Buffy said, trying to stay calm. Angel always managed to find a way into her personal life and, while part of her still loved him and probably always would, she knew there was no future there. And him popping up all the time made it really hard to move on.

"Yeah, okay…" Dawn said dubiously. "But you know how he is about you. A call from me probably isn't going to stop him. You might have to-"

Her words cut off as they pulled into the driveway. A black Porsche and a big chrome and black motorcycle already took up part of the space. Looking at the front of the house, Buffy had the urge to rub her eyes like they do in the cartoons, with the "squeak, squeak, squeak", because no way could there be that much badness in one spot on one day.

"Oh crap," she breathed.

There, lit by the porch light, were Sam, Angel and Faith. And down on the shadowy walkway was Spike.

"That… that…"

Buffy looked over to see Dawn was practically vibrating with fury as she stared at the blond vampire. Before she could say anything Dawn was out of the car, Buffy getting out seconds after her.

"Spike?" Dawn's said, her voice was about five octaves higher than normal as she started up the walkway.

The blond vampire smiled and called out "Nibblet!" opening his arms wide like he was expecting a hug. Buffy thought of warning him as Dawn rushed toward him, but… Nah. She just watched with maybe a little too much enjoyment as Dawn slid to a stop before him and kicked him square in the crotch. His open body position immediately folded in as he doubled over and his normally pale face turned red.

"Dawn," he gasped. "What-"

Her fist hit him with a force that made Buffy proud. Dawn made up for lack of Slayer super strength by letting her fury absolutely take over her punches. It was kind of awesome to watch. Spike landed on his back with a "oof" and Dawn jumped on him, grabbing the front of his leather coat in her fists.

"You stupid jackass! We thought you were dead!" She yelled, punctuating each word with a harsh shake. "We cried over you! We had a big stupid memorial where we all got drunk and smoked cigarettes in your name and _you weren't even dead!_"

Dawn's voice was reaching a pitch only dogs could hear at that point, so Buffy decided to pull her away before all their ears started bleeding. Grabbing her under her armpits, Buffy tugged her sister back to stand on the sidewalk where she stayed completely still, just trembling lightly like a trained attack dog waiting for the okay to rip some poor bastard apart.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" Buffy asked tiredly, crossing her arms. She thought it would hurt more, seeing him again. But while the resentment of him not having the decency to even call her when he was brought back was still there, the deep feelings she'd developed for him had simmered down to mere friendship. And even 'friendship' was stretching it right then. If he'd called her… well, who knew. It didn't matter, because he hadn't.

"Good to see you too, love," Spike said, slowly climbing back to his feet. When his eyes met hers his whole face softened and she saw that shimmer of devotion there that used to make her heart swell. She felt some of her anger slip away then. Not all, but some.

"I was going to send a card, but they don't make 'Glad you're not really dead' cards," she said with a shrug. "Hallmark needs to expand a little."

"So you knew? You and the nibblet both?"

"Andrew's a gossip queen."

Spike took a step toward her, "Listen, Love, I just-"

"You had to come here, didn't you, Spike?" Angel growled, coming up and yanking him away from Buffy.

"What? So you're the only one that can come here and check out the new boy toy?" Spike sneered back, all previous softness gone in an instant.

"He's not-" Buffy started to say, but they continued as if she wasn't even there.

"No, I'm the one that wanted to make sure she was alright. You just wanted to come back stir up trouble."

"I'm sorry, let me reintroduce myself, Pot. I'm Kettle. And I came here to check on _my_ girl."

"Your girl? YOUR girl? The one you couldn't even be bothered to call and tell you were alive?" Buffy burst out, still to no effect.

"She's _not_ you're girl!"

"She was mine last! So, I got dibs and stuff. So sod off!"

"Dibs? Are you kidding me right now?" Buffy put in again, only to be ignored some more.

"And in case you forgot, you already _have_ a girl. Big and furry ring any bells, mate? So what are _you_ doing here? Shouldn't you be playing with each others hair and writing in your diaries? Listening to a little Manilow and giggling about how dreamy he is?"

"You shut up about Manilow, Spike. He's a classic. Better than you and your 'effulgent' poems."

Spike sneered, "I think that nancy boy hair gel killed some of your brain cells if you're trying to argue that the likes of 'Mandy' is a tune for the ages."

Buffy tuned out their idiotic bickering and looked up to the porch. Sam looked… completely lost. She almost had the urge to laugh at the look on his face as he watched the two go at each other. There was a moment of panic where she had to rewind their fight and make sure no vampire references were made, but sighed in relief when she couldn't remember any. Faith was eating a cookie and watching the show with a smirk. She gave Buffy a little wave when she noticed her looking at her. Shaking her head, she turned to look at Dawn to find her sister's attention riveted to something other than the two vampires tossing insults in front of her. Following her gaze she saw Mrs. Stanowski shuffling across the yard pulling a little wagon with what looked like canisters of the pump and spray weed killer in it.

Great, what was _she_ up to.

She pulled herself back to the idiot parade in front of her in time to see Spike growl and step into Angel's personal space.

"You're nothing but a bloody coward. I knew a Mongolian hooker with bigger stones than you."

All of them paused for a second, making various disgusted faces at that proclamation before they started in on each other again. Buffy was starting to get a little nervous now. Violence was crackling in the air and she knew that pretty soon she'd have a vampire throw down in her front yard. That's all she needed, these two to break out in game face and start ripping each other apart. The neighbors would be signing a petition to get her kicked out of the area for sure.

She was about to step in when she noticed Mrs. Stanowski stop a few feet away and give one of the canisters a few good pumps. Then, before Buffy could utter a word, she started spraying Angel and Spike. There was a moment of horror where Buffy thought maybe it was holy water, but when there was no smoke and screaming she realized that wasn't the case. Both of them had frozen, hands grasping collars and identical looks of confused shock on their faces.

"Is that-" Dawn started.

"Oh shoot! You're supposed to add the oil after their clothes are off, aren't you?" Mrs. Stanowski said as she stopped dousing them. "Okay, take them off and I'll get you again. I got a big batch of pudding here too if you'd rather roll around in that."

For once, Buffy liked where Mrs. Stanowski's mind was going. Faith seemed to agree as she stared chanting "Wrestle! Wrestle! Wrestle!" from the porch and Dawn clapped a hand over her mouth as a wild giggle escaped. Sam… Sam still looked lost.

As if it was magical sense restoring oil, Spike and Angel stepped away from each other, both looking a little embarrassed.

"Sorry, Buffy," Angel said, glancing up at her sheepishly. "We're leaving."

"No way. The git got to feel out the new guy, so do I."

"No one's feeling out Sam but me," Buff said, then blushed wildly. "I mean-"

"She means exactly that, now get your asses out of here," Dawn said.

"We need to talk about something first," Angel said, grabbing Dawn's arm and pulling her off to the side.

Buffy watched curiously while Angel whispered to Dawn, his face dark. Turning away from the strange sight of her ex and her sister having some kind of argument, she saw Faith talking to Mrs. Stanowski and motioning to her wagon.

"Buffy…"

Not even _wanting_ to know what kind of unholy truce was going on over there, she turned to find Spike staring at her solemnly.

"About the whole not calling thing… I-"

"It's okay," Buffy said, realizing it was actually partly true. She was more mad about the principal of it than anything else anymore. "It's done."

"Is it?" He asked, looking crestfallen. "Done?"

"Yes, Spike. We're done," she answered, not unkindly. "I love you, I appreciate what you did. But I'm not _in _love with you."

Spike stared at her for a second and looked like he wanted to argue the point, but then he just closed his mouth and nodded.

"Well, just so you know, I'm still in love with you. And if things don't work out with Goliath over there, I'll be waiting."

Before she could answer, Dawn appeared and gripped Spike's sleeve.

"We need to talk," she said, tugging him away. Buffy smirked as one of his hands crept down to protectively cup his package as he let himself be pulled off.

"Hey," Angel said softly walking up to her.

"Hey," she said back. "Sorry about Dawn bothering you about this."

"No, I'm sorry I showed up here. It's not my place."

"No, it's not," Buffy said, shaking her head. "But I guess part of me's still glad you care. Next time, just call though, okay?"

He nodded with a small smile, then swallowed hard, looking a little nervous when his eyes met hers again.

"What about the… cookies?"

"I don't think I'll ever be able to make cookies," she said with a small laugh and a head shake. "And, with you… there needs to be cookies, you know? Being half done just doesn't cut it where you and I are concerned. I need to find someone that's okay with dough."

"And Sam, he's okay with dough?"

"Not sure. But maybe I want to find out."

The reminder of Sam had her glancing at the porch again, only to find it empty. She wasn't really sure what was going on with Sam, if she wanted to be his dough or whatever. But she thought she'd take Dawn's advice and let him explain at least.

Spike and Angel left moments later, leaving Dawn and Buffy standing alone on the lawn.

"What happened to Mrs. Stanowski?" Dawn asked, looking around.

"No clue. Faith said something that made her go away."

"That's… scary."

"No kidding," Buffy laughed.

"Why don't we go in and I'll take Faith out with me so you and Sam can talk," Dawn offered, looking toward the front door. "Or we could still do the naked and tied to a chair thing and she could help."

"I think I'll take option A," Buffy said with a grin. "But have your phone on you tonight in case I change my mind."

Figuring the night couldn't possibly get any worse and things could really only get better from here, she tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach as they went inside.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Thirteen**

They found Faith and Sam in the kitchen, Faith eating another cookie and relaxing against the counter, while Sam sat on a stool, brows furrowed and looking a little worried. As soon as Buffy and Dawn walked in, he stood up, eyes locked on Buffy's face.

Buffy almost drew back from the intense look he was aiming at her, but stopped herself and squared her shoulders. She found that most of her anger at him has slipped away. After the drama outside with her exes, seeing Sam on a date kind of paled in comparison.

"So, you've met Faith I see," she said.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda," Sam answered after a beat, sliding his eyes away from Buffy to land on the other Slayer. "She just kind of popped up."

"She does that," Buffy nodded, looking at Faith who was smirking at her.

"Faith's another bounty hunter," Dawn jumped in, staring hard at her, as if she could beam the cover story right into her head.

"Yeah, I was on the trail of an FTA, ended up catching his ass not far from here. Figured I'd stop in and say hi before I flew out tomorrow," Faith said without so much as blinking.

Buffy could see Dawn gaping from the corner of her eye. She wasn't sure if Giles had told Faith about Dawn's idea or if she was just going with the flow. She had a strong feeling it was the latter and couldn't help but be impressed.

"It alright if I stay here tonight?" Faith asked through a full mouth of cookie. "And I gotta leave my shit here tomorrow. I'm flyin' out commercial, so no weapons."

"Uh, sure," Buffy said, glancing at Sam. She'd really hoped to talk to him, but that would be a little awkward with Faith hanging around.

"You can't be here right now, they have things to talk about," Dawn said immediately. They were really going to have to have a talk about tact and subtlety, Buffy thought, pinching the bridge of her nose - this was just getting ridiculous. "You can come with me, I'll show you where some clubs and stuff are."

"Can't squirt, already got plans with the crazy lady next door."

"You what?" Buffy asked, sure she'd heard that wrong.

"Told her I'd show her what some _real_ men looked like covered in oil. Not those two pale losers. I can't _wait_ to see her face! I know this great place in SanFran where they let you rub the oil right on their-"

"Oh god, please stop," Buffy said.

"Buffy, I just pictured Mrs. Stanowski rubbing oil on some naked man. I think I need a trauma councilor…"

Buffy had thankfully bricked off that mental image as it started to form, or she'd be in the same boat as Dawn.

"You two can come if you want. I'm telling you, these guys have some of the biggest-"

"Faith!"

Faith laughed and opened her mouth, surely to say something else Buffy had no desire to hear, when they heard the front door open and Mrs. Stanowski walked it. She was wearing a pair of jean cut off shorts that showed her pale, wrinkled chicken legs to maximum effect, a Rod Steward t-shirt and high white socks with white sneakers.

"This okay to wear? Should I wear leather, too? I want to fit in... I won't really get a feel for what happens in one of these places unless I fit in."

"No, no, what you've got on is fine," Faith said, a flash of a grimace crossing her face. Caused, no doubt, by the thought of Mrs. Stanowski in leather.

"Mrs. Stanowski, are you sure you wanna do this?" Dawn asked, looking more than a little skeptical at the thought of the old lady and Faith teaming up at some strip club.

"Sure I am, dear," she nodded immediately. "The lifestyle you girls live isn't one I'm really familiar with, and how can I be a good neighbor if I don't understand the things you're into?"

"Right," Buffy said flatly, knowing full well it was both a combination of getting more gossip and the desire to see some… well, whatever, that had Mrs. Stanowski going with Faith.

"Well then, we'll all just get out of your way then," Dawn said to Buffy, herding Faith and Mrs. Stanowski toward the door. "Remember to call if you decide about the chair thing."

Then it was just the two of them. They stood in silence for a minute, listening to engines catching and car door's slamming outside. Even after it was all quiet neither said anything - Buffy knew he was probably looking forward to explaining about his date about as much as she was looking forward to explaining about Angel and Spike. God, the things he heard, the way they acted… and who knew what went on _before_ she got home. She'd be lucky if _he_ wasn't the one packing his stuff and running in the other direction after that little show.

"So, uh… Listen, Buffy, about what happened…" Sam started, shuffling his feet and not really looking at her.

"I'm sorry about that," she said with a sigh. "My exes kinda follow me around like a bad smell. If I'd known they were coming, I would have given you a heads up."

Sam smiled a little and shook his head, "I meant about what happened at the restaurant."

"Oh, right," Buffy said, her gaze dropping.

"It wasn't what it looked like," Sam said, moving closer her.

"So you _weren't_ on a date?"

"No. Well, yes, but… She asked me out before anything happened between me and you. I mean, I knew I liked you before that, but because we lived together I didn't want to make things weird in case you didn't feel the same. Then yesterday…"

"When I threw myself at you like a rabid horned up animal?" Buffy said, covering her eyes in embarrassment.

She heard Sam chuckle. "Definitely not complaining," he said, his voice a little deeper than normal.

Looking back up at him and seeing the look in his eyes, she had a moment where there was almost a repeat performance, then she reigned in her thoughts and shook her head.

"Okay, so, obviously you realized I like you, too. So why were you out with her tonight?"

"I tried to call and cancel this afternoon, but I had her number wrong in my phone. I didn't want to just stand her up, you know?" Sam said, moving closer again and giving her the most effective puppy dog face Buffy had ever witnessed. "But then I ended up running out after you, which might have embarrassed her more than if I hadn't shown up at all…"

Buffy took a moment to process that. His reason for the date was just so… Sam. And maybe she was just a sucker, but the sincerity in his eyes had her convinced he was telling her the truth. One thing stood out to her though…

"You ran out after me?" Buffy asked, smiling a little.

"I spent over an our looking for you before I came back here."

"And found the Spanish Inquisition waiting for you?"

"Actually, only Angel was here," he said. "Then Faith showed up. The other guy, Spike was it? He'd just gotten here before you and Dawn."

"Again, I'm _so_ sorry about that," Buffy said again, closing her eyes.

"It was… informative," Sam said, with a slight laugh. "You have an ex named _Spike_? And everyone thought he died? And your other ex's new girlfriend is big and hairy?"

"You forgot to mention they're both idiots," she said, rubbing her temples. "I'm surprised you're not running for the hills right now."

"Nah, you keep things interesting," he said softly. His hand pushing a strand of hair behind her ear made her snap her eyes open to see he'd moved closer while she'd been having her little pity party for herself.

"You mean insane," she said, looking up and quirking and eyebrow.

"They're both still in love with you," he said, his smile melting away.

"Yeah, they are. Does that bother you?"

"Do you still love them?"

"I'll always care about them. If either of them needed help, I'd go to the ends of the earth and back if that's what they needed. But I'm not in love with either of them anymore."

"So, you're ready to feel me out then?" Sam said, with a teasing smirk.

Buffy blushed at the reminder of her earlier Freudian slip, but gave him a little smile back.

"Maybe I am."

Sam took another step forward, trapping her between himself and the wall she'd been standing by. Unable to take it any more, she reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, jerking his mouth down to hers. He let out a low half moan, half growl and slid his hands down her back, over her ass and to the back of her thighs, where he gripped and lifted her to his height. Her legs automatically wrapped around him, prompting him to make that delicious sound again as he pressed her back against the wall. The amount of body heat he gave off was incredible, and that combined with the hard planes of his body had her mind fogging over. Her hands came up to tangle in his hair (it was even softer than it looked) as his large hands ran over her sides.

"We should probably slow this down a little," Buffy forced herself to say, panting as his tongue tracked a hot path down her neck. She really didn't mean it but she didn't want it to seem like she did stuff like this all the time.

"Definitely," he murmured against the base of her throat. "We could go out, see a movie, have dinner…"

"Mmm," Buffy answered as one hand slipped under the back of her shirt, warm calloused fingers dancing up her spine. "That sounds good."

Slowly Sam pulled back enough to look into her eyes again, "So you want me to stop?"

The earnestness of his voice combined with the animal look in his eyes did her in.

"No, I was just being nice," she said, ripping his shirt open and sending buttons flying in all directions. "That sounds terrible. I don't even want to leave the kitchen."

And they didn't.

She'd never look at that kitchen island the same again…

* * *

Buffy woke around two to the sound of the front door opening and closing. She blinked in the dark, trying to get her bearings. It took her a moment to realize she was in Sam's room and his much larger frame was pressed against her back, warm breath ghosting over the top of her head and a hand resting on her hip. She gave a small contented smile, just enjoying his warmth for a moment. Then she remembered what had woken her in the first place - she was sure it was just Faith but decided she'd better check anyway. Reluctantly, she peeled herself away from Sam and climbed out of the bed. She shivered a little, feeling cold in her cami and sleep shorts after being cocooned in Sam's warmth.

Silently opening and closing the door, she saw a figure reach the top of the stairs and flicked on the hall light. Faith stopped and looked over at her, gnawing on another cookie and seemingly completely oblivious to the fact she covered in what looked like motor oil and marshmallow fluff.

Buffy just shook her head, "I don't even wanna know."

Faith smirked, "Gladys was a champ, man. I thought for a moment she might have a heart attack when the fireman shook his hose in her face, but it was all good. Dawn told me how she's always giving you shit, so I got some pictures, too."

"I'd rather her keep spreading rumors about me for the next hundred years than to see even one of those pictures," Buffy said seriously.

"Your loss," Faith shrugged, heading into one of the guest rooms.

Shaking her head, she went back in Sam's room and slipped back under the covers. He gave a sleepy grunt as she snuggled into him and wrapped an arm around her, burying his nose in her hair. She smiled, resting her head against his chest, and was asleep again within seconds.

A few hours later, Buffy heard someone moving around downstairs. Her first sleepy thought was that it was just Faith coming back. A minute later she remembered Faith was _already_ back. Slipping out of the bed again, she opened the door silently and crept down the hall. Sure enough, someone was moving around very, very quietly in the kitchen. She might not have heard it at all if she hadn't had Slayer hearing. Creeping down the stairs without a sound, she peeked around the corner and saw someone moving around near the refrigerator. She could tell by his barely discernable silhouette that it was definitely a man - spiky hair, broad shoulders and almost as tall as Sam.

His hand was reaching for the handle of the fridge when she made her move. Stealing food was kinda sad, but she couldn't just let people break into her house to grab a bite to eat. Maybe, if he apologized and promised never to do it again, she'd make him a sandwich and just send him on his way. Moving up silently behind him, she grabbed the back of his coat and jerked him backwards, making him give out a slight "gurk".

She was about to lay into Mr. Hobo about the wrongs of breaking and entering when he spun on her so quickly that she lost hold of his coat. He was actually really quick, much quicker than some starved street person should be. She ducked under a swing easily and grabbed the offending arm. Using his momentum and size against him, she sent him crashing into the counter where Mrs. Stanowski's cookies went flying and the plate shattered against the floor.

He didn't even seem phased though and turned back on her in a split second. She threw a punch with just a dash of Slayer strength and speed and was a little surprised when he dodged it. This time he grabbed _her _arm and tried to pull her off balance. She let herself go with it but snatched a handful of his coat again with her other hand and pulled him over her head as she hit the ground, then rolled herself on top of him. She pinned him down easily, straddling his waist and using her legs to keep his locked down and her arms trapping his wrists next to his head.

Light suddenly flooded the kitchen and they were left blinking at each other stupidly. The guy was… well, hot. There was no other word for it. Tearing her eyes away from the best looking hobo she'd ever seen, she saw Sam standing in the doorway with a look of shock on his face.

"Dean?"


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Fourteen**

Sam looked at the scene in front of him and blinked a few times. There was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. The last thing he ever thought he'd find when he heard the commotion downstairs was Buffy straddling his brother on the kitchen floor.

"Dean?"

Dean's green eyes that had been wide with surprise when the light clicked on, crinkled in the corners when he saw Sam as he smiled.

"Hey there, Sammy…"

"You know The Incredible Stealing Hobo here?" Buffy asked, her head cocked slightly to one side like a bird.

Sam couldn't help but laugh a little despite his shock, both because he was glad to see Dean and because of Buffy's odd word choices. God, he thought he might be in love with her…

"He's my brother," Sam said, still a little dazed.

"You called him!" Buffy exclaimed letting go of Dean's arms and sitting back while sending Sam a huge smile. "I'm so glad! I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to push-"

"Uhh, Buffy, you want to…" Sam asked, looking pointedly at their position.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She said, her cheeks going pink as she started to move off Dean.

"No, no, please, don't get up," Dean smirked, grabbing her hips and keeping her seated on him. "Seriously, you're fine right where you are."

"Dean!" Sam barked, not at all amused at brother's antics.

"What the fuck's going on down here?" Faith said, sleepily shuffling into the doorway. Her dark hair was sticking out in wild waves and bedroom eyes were half lidded with sleepiness. She was dressed in nothing but a wife beater and a pair of boy shorts. In other words, she looked like walking sex.

"B, am I still drunk, or are you ridin' some dude on the kitchen floor while your boy watches?" Faith asked with a raised eyebrow. "And why wasn't I invited?"

"What did you do with your clothes, Faith?" Buffy asked, completely ignoring what Faith had said and narrowing her eyes on her wardrobe. "If you let that oil and marshmallow crap soak into the carpet, it'll _never_ come out."

"Relax, B, I took 'em off in the shower and threw 'em out the bathroom window."

"You threw your clothes out the window…"

"Yeah, they're garbage now anyways. Turns out motor oil and marshmallows do weird stuff to leather…"

Dean's eyes swept from Faith, to Buffy, and back to Faith again before landing on Sam.

"Sammy," Dean said softly, eyes big and sincere. "You're my new hero."

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the shock of seeing Dean wearing off. After the weirdness with Buffy's exes earlier, Buffy straddling Dean in the kitchen while Faith talked about what oil and marshmallows did to leather dropped on the oddity scale. It didn't even strike him as that crazy anymore, just commonplace, which was a little scary. What he _wasn't_ okay with was the way Dean's fingers where still resting on Buffy hips. His eyes narrowed dangerously when he saw one of his brothers thumbs sweep under the hem of her camisole. Before he could move to jerk his girl (_his girl_, he liked that…) away from Dean and his wandering hands, Buffy's attention jerked back to the man under her. Dean smiled innocently and Sam had a split second where he thought to warn his idiot brother but it passed quickly. Buffy smiled back and put her hands on top of his, making his smile widen, then she grabbed his thumbs and bent them back viciously making him yelp and try to squirm away from her.

"Touch me like that again and you'll never be touching anything again due to a severe lack of hands, got it?"

Dean gave out a squeaky gargle that Buffy apparently took for a yes, because she released his thumbs and climbed off of him. After daintily straightening her clothes, she gave Sam a bright smile and bounced over to him, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her chin on his chest as she looked up at him.

"Sorry, I thought your brother was a vagrant looking for something to eat."

"Well, that's pretty much what he is…"

"Hey!" Dean said, cradling his abused thumbs to his chest.

Sam gave him apologetic shrug but wasn't able to keep the smile completely off his face. Buffy squeezed him slightly, reminding him of his manners.

"Oh, sorry! Uh, Dean, this my… girlfriend, Buffy," he said, feeling a little silly at how much he liked saying that.

"Buffy? I just got my ass handed to me by a girl named _Buffy_?"

"Again, sorry about that," Buffy said, sheepishly, untangling herself from Sam and offering her hand.

"Don't be. He deserved if it for breaking in here," Sam said, giving a half smile as his brother glared at him from where he was shaking Buffy's hand.

"So, you're my brother's girlfriend? Are you sure? Because you seem way out of his league," Dean said, eyeing Buffy again with a wistful look.

"Funny, I was wondering if you were really Sam's brother, because you're such a tool," Buffy said, pulling her hand back and never breaking her smile.

"I like her," Dean nodded. "You need someone like this to play hero when you're the damsel in distress, Samantha. How'd you learn to fight like that anyway?"

Buffy paused before giving a shrug, "Bounty hunter."

Dean gave a bark of laughter before realizing he was the only one amused by that.

"Seriously? Holy shit, that's hot," he said, sounding a little breathy. Then he turned to Faith. "And this is?"

"Faith," she said with a head bob and no move to shake his hand.

"Also a bounty hunter," he asked, sounding hopeful.

Faith just gave a little shrug, "Do what ya gotta do, ya know?"

"Damn, all this time I thought you were too busy in your geekdom to bother calling us. When really you were living it up with two super hot bounty hunter chicks. I wouldn't have called either, dude."

"Actually, I don't live here," Faith said, getting a evil look in her eyes that made Sam want to fidget and made Buffy tense next to him. "I'm just here for the threesome."

"Threesome?" Dean said softly, swaying a little.

"She's kidding," Buffy said, glaring at Faith.

"How about a foursome?" Faith said, eyes sliding to each of them.

Dean perked up at that, looking from Faith to Buffy, but when his eyes landed on Sam his lip curled up and he looked a little green. "Pass."

Faith grinned, happy in her ability to make everyone in the room uncomfortable. "So, is this a regular thing," she asked. "Your bro showin' up and breakin' into places to see you?"

Sam shook his head, "You could've just called me back, you know."

"Where's the fun in that?" Dean said with a shrug.

"How'd you find out I was staying here, anyway?"

"Saw you wandering around earlier like _you_ were the vagrant. Followed you. Gotta say, Sammy, you're a little rusty. Didn't even know I was there."

"I had more important things on my mind than what hobo was stalking me."

"Wait, rusty on what?" Buffy asked, interrupting the back and forth. "Oh, does this have something to do with why you have a gun?"

Sam felt his face pale and shot a slightly panicked look at Dean which luckily Buffy missed since Faith had started talking.

"You have a gun? That's wicked hot…"

"I have a gun, too! And it's bigger than his," Dean put in, ignoring Sam's tiny head shaking.

"Sayin' that don't mean shit. You gotta prove it."

Sam groaned, he was glad to have the topic moving away from why he was carrying a gun, but he'd rather it not be aimed toward a conversation between the sexual deviants.

"Oh, I got no problem doing that, sweetheart," Dean said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Wow, it's almost like they're the same person," Buffy said, watching in fascination as Dean and Faith battled it out in some kind of sexed up staring contest.

"You know, it's late, I think the two brothers should talk in the morning," Faith said, her eyes never leaving Deans.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Dean nodded, also still staring.

"Oh, okay," Buffy said, looking back and forth between them all and giving a shrug. "Um, the room on the right is-"

"Don't worry about it, B," Faith said, turning toward the stairs. "We're gonna conserve space. No need to dirty up another room."

Dean started to follow her then paused, looking at Sam with a little crease between his eyes, "See ya in the morning?"

Sam gave him a warm smile, touched that he was worried about messing things up already. "Sure, man. In the morning."

Dean gave him a glowing smile and bounded up the stairs after Faith.

"You're not going to try and rip my thumbs off, too, are you?" His voice carried down.

"Nah, you'll need you're thumbs for what I have in mind," Faith purred back before a door slammed.

"Wow, that was…" Buffy started. "I mean… what just happened?"

Sam laughed, "Hurricane Dean."

"I still can't believe _that's_ your brother. You're so different…"

"Thank God," Sam said.

Buffy snickered and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the stairs.

"Buffy radar says sunrise is still a few hours away. That means it's way too early to be up."

He let her pull him after her, enjoying the view he got going up the stairs. As soon as they'd slipped back into bed, he pulled her to him. Her warm little body reminding him of their earlier tryst in the kitchen. It had been… He swallowed hard, his mouth going dry at the memory as his arms tightened around her.

"You looked a little jealous down there," she said with a smirk, sliding her body over his until she was straddling him. "Did you have some ideas about me and you and this position?"

He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips and to her sides, giving her a lazy half smile. "Could be. I want assurances my thumbs are safe though."

He'd just slid his hands a little higher, getting a breathy gasp out of her when the commotion down the hall started. Both of them froze and looked first at each other, then at the door. There was a crash, followed by a grunt and a devious male giggle. A loud thump and war-cry-like whoop came moments later.

They both looked at each other in varying degrees of horror before bursting out in laughter.

"Downstairs?" Buffy giggled.

"Downstairs," he agreed, scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder.

"You put me down right now, Sam Winchester," she said, trying to sound serious but having the effect ruined by her continued giggles that turned into a little snort.

They were almost to the stairs when one of the guest room door opened and Dean came tumbling out into the hall in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and what looked like body paint making little targets around his nipples. He looked up at them from his place on the floor and his eyes zoomed in on Buffy's ass which was currently right next to Sam's face.

"Nice," he said with an appreciative nod.

He felt Buffy shift and could just picture her peeking around him and taking in the scene upside down.

"Oh god, get downstairs before she comes out to collect him," she said, choking on a laugh.

Sam shook his head at his brother, before heading downstairs and dropping Buffy on the couch. She pulled him down with her and had his shirt off in record speed. Then the din upstairs started up again, louder and weirder than before. He swore he heard a goat…

Buffy had stopped her assault on his clothes and dropped her forehead on his chest.

"I can't… not with them," Buffy said, looking up at him and crinkling her nose. "It's just… ew."

"Yeah, I know…" Sam said. His brother had been back in his life for less than an hour and he was already keeping him from getting sweaty and naked with the girl of his dreams (well, sweaty and naked _again_, but that was beside the point).

"We could go out to the car," Buffy said.

"Except neither of us have one."

"Oh, yeah…"

"What about the kitchen."

"The kitchen would be the _least _comfortable place in the whole house to sleep."

"You're right. But we won't be doing any sleeping."

* * *

The next morning Sam woke sprawled on the kitchen floor near the garage door and looked around blearily. Sun was streaming in the kitchen windows and it felt like he was stuck to the tile. Peeling himself up with a grimace, he collected up his sleep pants from where they were hanging haphazardly from a cabinet knob and went in search of his shirt. He found it in the living room and had it halfway on when he noticed the strange sounds coming from down the hall.

In his time here, he'd never once seen the workout room actually get used and curiosity had him heading for the door as he pulled his shirt on the rest of the way. There was a split second where he worried that Faith and Dean had moved their sexcapades downstairs but it was too late, he was already tugging the partially closed door the rest of the way open.

Inside he found not Faith and Dean, but Faith and Buffy. Faith and Buffy kicking the crap out of each other to be more specific. He watched with his jaw practically unhinged as Faith sent a lightning quick kick at Buffy's head which she miraculously caught and sent her own kick at Faith, who also caught the incoming strike.

"We've got a voyeur, B," Faith said, taking her eyes off of Buffy and nodding at Sam.

"Please, don't stop because of me," he said, then blushed realizing how that sounded. "I just mean, it was interesting."

"Sure, what's not interesting about two chicks bouncing around fighting each other?" Faith said with a bark of laughter. "Especially to a guy."

"Uh, maybe some other time," Buffy said, looking uncomfortable as she dropped Faith's leg.

Faith let Buffy go as well and gave a shrug as she pushed some sweat dampened hair off her face. "Suit yourself. I'm off for a shower, I gotta get goin' pretty soon." She slapped Sam on the ass as she walked by. "Saw you in the kitchen this morning by the way. Nice assets."

Buffy had covered her eyes with a hand and Sam felt like his face might actually catch on fire. Finally pushing away the embarrassment and deciding to pretend most of that conversation hadn't happened, Sam walked over to Buffy, who was wiping away the little bit of sweat she'd accumulated with a hand towel.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just pretty amazing that you can fight like that."

"Yeah, um, listen," she said, twisting the towel in her hand and not meeting his eyes. "That's something we should talk about. Me and Faith and how we're able to fight like we can."

Sam sighed, seeing where this conversation was going. What kind of situations would she had to have been put in to hone skills like that? He knew first hand that teaching only took you so far, that it was the heat of the moment, life or death times that truly taught you what you needed to know. Not exactly shining moments or ones you wanted to relive for your new boyfriend.

"You don't have to," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to tell me anything about it. You are who you are and I love you for that, you don't have to tell me how you got to be here if you don't want to or don't feel comfortable with it."

"You don't understand, it's kind of important…"

"Then just tell me whenever you're ready. You don't have to force yourself to do it now. I'm not going anywhere," he said giving her a reassuring smile. It melted away when he realized he was kind of in the same boat. "There's actually some things I should tell you, too…"

They were interrupted at that point by the loud growl that came from Buffy's stomach. She slapped a hand over it and looked mortified while he laughed.

"Why don't you grab a shower and I'll start on breakfast?"

"You're seriously like the perfect man, you know that?" She said, standing on her tiptoes to give him a light kiss. She slapped him on the ass as well on the way out. "And Faith was right, you do have great assets."


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Fifteen**

The smell of pancakes, eggs and coffee filled the kitchen as Sam and Buffy put breakfast together. Well, he put breakfast together, she was on coffee duty and assisting. Sam stood off to the side, mixing up omelet ingredients and Buffy was in front of the stove, oiling a skillet for hash browns and singing "and the grease goes on" to the tune of "and the beat goes on."

He smiled, shaking his head and slid in behind her, kissing just above her ear as he poured the mixture. The sweet smell of oranges and vanilla drifted up to him as she snuggled back against him and looked up.

"Are you sure you want me to help? It could end badly…"

"We'll make Dean try it first."

She laughed and elbowed him lightly in the stomach. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Dean came wandering into the kitchen seconds later. He grunted a greeting at them, his hair sticking up everywhere, feet dragging and dark circles under his eyes. He also looked to be wearing the same clothes as he had on yesterday, except one of the sleeves was almost torn off now.

"Rough night?" Sam asked, almost choking on a laugh.

Instead of looking annoyed, Dean's gaze turned a little dreamy. "Really rough… that girl…"

Buffy shook her head. "And another one bites the dust."

She deftly ducked under Sam's arm in a graceful move and grabbed another cup from the cabinet for Dean, motioning for him to sit at the island. Her gaze lingered on its surface for a moment longer than necessary, making Sam smother a grin. Then she grabbed the disinfectant wipes from under the counter and rubbed it down, as if she hadn't done that twice already. Satisfied, she nodded and poured Dean's coffee. Sam turned away, laughing slightly, to flip the omelet and when he turned back around he found Dean sipping his coffee and watching him with a strange expression. He was about to ask if something was wrong when Faith came in.

While Dean looked like he'd been ridden hard and put away wet, Faith looked perfectly fine. She seemed well rested and moved with her usual slinky swagger, humming some Black Sabbath under her breath. Dean watched her every move, mesmerized. Buffy rolled her eyes and Sam snickered, he was about to ask Faith what kind of omelet she wanted when a car horn sounded outside.

"That's me," she said, grabbing Buffy's coffee cup and draining it. She clapped Dean on the shoulder as she walked by. "Had fun, stud. You need to work on your dismount though."

She threw a wave over her shoulder as she left, not even bothering to look back. The front door slamming seemed to wake Dean from his stupor, because he went flying off of his stool and out the door after her yelling, "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"So she's just leaving?" Sam asked with quirked brow.

"Yep, that's Faith - love 'em and leave 'em. Except it's more like bang 'em and leave 'em…" Buffy said, looking at her coffee cup with critical eyes before putting it in the sink and grapping a new one, muttering, "Know where her lips have been…"

Sam shifted, trying to see out the kitchen window to what was going on outside. Feeling eyes on him, he turned back toward Buffy to find her watching him in amusement.

"Are you worried about your brother's heart getting broken?"

"Psh, no. Love 'em and leave 'em is pretty much Dean's life motto. I just thought, you know, they kind of fit well together. As scary as that is…"

"Oh, so you want to play match maker? Or is it that you think if Faith's here, that Dean might want to stick around longer?"

Sam shrugged and turned back to the food, unwilling to say it out loud. It was true though, that's exactly what he was thinking. It was great having Dean here, and even though they hadn't really seen much of each other yet, it was like some hole in Sam suddenly got filled. He wasn't ready for Dean to run off on some hunt yet, wasn't ready for dad to call and issue the order for him to leave. And he wasn't ready to say no to his brother when asked him to come with him, wasn't ready for that fight.

Buffy's arms slid around his waist and her head came to rest between his shoulder blades. "It'll all be okay, you'll see."

And even though there was no way she could know that, he felt himself relaxing at her words, her touch, her assurance. He loved her. He really, truly loved her. He'd kind of blurted it out earlier, but luckily she hadn't seemed to notice. It was too early to be throwing the "L" word around, he didn't want to scare her off.

The front door opened and closed again and Dean came stomping back into the kitchen.

"There is _nothing_ wrong with my dismount," he growled at the both of them as if daring them to make a comment.

"I don't wanna know about your dismount, at all," Buffy said, sliding over to lean against the counter next to Sam and looking at his brother with a nose crinkle. "Good or bad, keep it to yourself."

"Agreed," Sam said, sliding the food on the island and helping Buffy gather up plates and forks. As he was sitting down, he caught Dean staring at him with that strange look again. He raised his eyebrow, silently asking "what's up?" but Dean just shook his head and smirked before he started piling food on his plate.

Breakfast was great, and he wasn't just talking about the food. Dean regaled them with stories of strange bars and stranger women, they told him all about Mrs. Stanowski (who he was determined to meet), Sam filled him in on how school was going. It was… nice - comfortable and surprisingly normal. Now all the food was gone and Dean was staring at Buffy with a look of amazement.

"How'd you eat all that?"

"Crazy high metabolism," she said through her last bite of pancake. "Plus, Sam's cooking is incredible. I was pretty much living off of take-out before he came along."

"How'd you two meet?"

"My sister," she answered after a gulp of orange juice. "She and Sam knew each other and when he was having some roommate issues, she told him he could stay here."

"I'd actually just met her that day," Sam said with a grin.

"I _knew_ she was lying when she said she'd known you for 'ages'," Buffy said, looking shocked. "But only _a day_?"

"Actually less than a day, I'd only met her that morning," Sam said with a laugh. "Can't believe she said she'd know me for 'ages'. Oh wait, it's Dawn, yes I can."

Buffy shook her head as she stared gathering up dirty dishes, "What if you'd been some deranged person looking for his next victim?"

"I doubt you'd make being a victim easy," Dean put in.

"True," she said, tossing him a grin over her shoulder as she stuck the dishes in the washer and dried her hands. "Okay, I'm going up to my office, I have a conference call thingy with Giles soon."

Refilling her coffee cup, she gave Sam a kiss on the cheek as she went by, muttering something about "stupid parrots".

"So, your super hot girlfriend's a bounty hunter," Dean said, leaning back on his stool and staring after where Buffy had disappeared. "That is _so_ awesome. I'm proud of you Sammy."

"Then I can die happy," Sam said with an eye roll and a small grin. He was actually really happy that Dean seemed to like Buffy.

"I was actually pretty surprised when I heard from you. What was going on that made you call?"

"I needed some advice. And since you didn't call back I pretty much made a total mess of things," Sam said, standing to get more coffee. "Come on, let's go in the living room."

The move gave him a little more time to collect himself, to gather what he wanted to say. But more than that, it was really hard to concentrate when he kept seeing himself and Buffy on every surface in the kitchen. How was he supposed to have a serious conversation when he was looking at that island?

"Dude, what the hell happened to your remote?"

Sam followed Dean's questioning gaze to the sad taped up remote and smiled. His brother would _love_ this.

"Buffy had to dress up as a dominatrix to go after a skip. She Indiana Jonesed the remote with her whip and threw it out the front door."

Dean went quiet and a little glassy-eyed.

"Dean?"

"Just… just give me a minute, Sammy. Not done picturing it."

"Dean!" Sam barked, not amused anymore and regretting telling him. Now his brother would be picturing S&M Buffy (wow, that sounded like some kind of Barbie…) all the time.

Dean's gaze cleared and he gave Sam a shameless smirk. "All done. What were we talking about?"

"How would you like it if I started picturing Faith like that?"

"Dude, you don't have to, I have a real picture in my phone where she's doing this thing with her-"

"Nevermind," Sam said, cutting off Dean quickly. Deciding to move into safer territory, he asked, "So, where were you?"

"I was working some hoodoo gig down in Louisiana when you called," he said, leaning back and stretching he feet out in front of him. "There was another hunter there, so I left it with him and came here."

"You handed a hunt over?"

"Yeah," Dean said with a nonchalant shrug. "Figured coming here and seeing all these tan, hot California girls would be better than chasing some crazy bastard all around the French Quarter."

"Wait, where was dad?" Sam asked in confusion.

"We've been taking separate hunts now for a while."

"That's dangerous!" Sam burst out. Hunting wasn't something you should do solo, it was possible, but it was risky. "Let me guess, this was dad's idea?"

The way his brother kind of flinched at the statement not only told Sam it was true, but also said volumes about Dean thinking he wasn't up to John's hunting standards - that he got left behind because he wasn't good enough.

"That _bastard_," Sam hissed under his breath.

"Sam, can we not do this? Not have the whole argument about dad and his parenting skills?"

"Or lack thereof?" Sam asked dryly. "Fine."

"So what was this thing you made a mess of because you didn't get my brilliant advice?"

Sam sighed and leaned back on the couch next to Dean, then filled him in on his decision to go out with Jessica and all the horribleness thereafter.

"Man, you left that poor girl sitting in the restaurant? I thought I got all the douche genes."

"I know…" Sam groaned rubbing his face. "Then, I get back here and two of Buffy's exes show up. One's the head of a multi-billion dollar law firm and the other rides a motorcycle and is named 'Spike'."

"Spike? Seriously? What'd he look like?"

"A lot like Billy Idol actually… Accent and everything."

"That's kinda awesome… Guess you meet all types being a bounty hunter."

They sat there for a moment in companionable silence and Sam soaked in the fact that his brother was really there. Looking over at Dean, lazily stretched out with a contented smile on his face, he took a deep breath and finally said what he'd been meaning to say since he'd made that phone call.

"The biggest reason I called wasn't because of advice or problems though. It was because I realized what an idiot I was being. You and dad don't like me going to Stanford. So what? I'm still going. It doesn't mean I should cut you out of my life. I- I really missed you and someone very wise made me realize I'd rather fight with you about it everyday for the rest of my life than never to fight with you again at all."

There was a beat of silence following his little speech. Dean stared off toward the far wall with a closed expression on his face. Then he turned his eyes on Sam.

"Oh, god, you don't wanna hug or something now, do you?"

Sam let out a relieved breath and shook his head. "Nah, I don't know if you had a shower yet today."

"Hey, I had one last night _and_ this morning, I'll have you know," Dean said haughtily before muttering, "Damn body paint didn't wanna come off…"

Sam breathed out a laugh and grabbed their cups from the table. "More coffee?"

"Yeah, okay," Dean said. Sam was almost out of the room when he spoke up again. "And Sammy… missed you, too."

Sam paused and nodded, not daring to turn back and let his brother see the huge smile on his face. He had his happiness under control by the time he came back with more coffee and sat down next to Dean.

"So, you think I should call dad?"

"Well, thing is, dad's… a little missing."

"How can someone be 'a little missing'?" Sam asked, his cup halfway to his mouth.

"Well, we've been taking separate hunts, like I told you, and I haven't heard from him in a while. That's not really rare, and I was going to give him a little longer before I went looking, but then you called and since I was going to be here anyway…"

"You thought you'd drag me along?"

"Come on, Sammy. Don't use 'drag', how about 'I thought I'd have you _accompany _me'. See, that's more like it. More college-y, too," Dean said, but then his amusement faded to seriousness. "That _was_ what I was thinking. Honestly, I've really missed having you around, I thought it'd be nice to head out again together. But… You've got something really good going here, Sammy. Buffy's awesome, this place is great, and you're happier than I think I've ever seen you. I'm not going to be the reason any of that gets screwed up."

Sam leaned forward on his elbows, staring hard at the carpet like the little fibers would suddenly spell out what to do. Dean was right, things here were good. _Really_ good. He'd wanted his family back in his life, not the hunting, but that had been stupid - thinking the two could be separated. And going off looking for dad when the man was probably just working overtime on a Miller Time shift…

"Where was he?" He found himself asking.

"Up in Jericho. Checking out some disappearances."

Jericho wasn't far. They could probably go up, track down dad and be back by Tuesday if they left today. He shouldn't - he had classes and work tomorrow. Plus things with Buffy had just started… But-

"_I know exactly what it's like to wake up one morning and someone you always thought would be there just… isn't anymore. You should call your family, Sam. Because one day they might not be there to call anymore."_

"Fine, I'll go."


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Sixteen**

Buffy gave a gusty sigh as she locked herself in her office. The last twenty-four hours had been weird even by her standards. The biggest surprise to her was Sam's brother - she never would have pictured the handsome Man-Faith that had shown up in her kitchen. He was so _non_ Sam-like. But she supposed the same could be said of her and Dawn. At least she _hoped_ people noticed how different they were… She hoped the two used their time alone down there to get things fixed between them. In the meantime, she really did have a conference call to make. Checking the clock and sliding into her desk chair, she picked up her phone and dialed the number in Scotland. A familiar but unexpected voice picked up after just a few rings.

"Buffy!"

"Willow!" Buffy said back in excitement. It had been a while since she'd talked to her friend, she'd been spending a lot of time in the astral plane lately. "How'd you know it was me? Some witchy sixth sense?"

"Nope, just caller ID."

"Oh, well that's less interesting…"

"I could lie if you want."

"Too late now," she said with a falsely disappointed sigh. "So what's the what there? How's Kennedy?"

"She's good," Willow chirped. "Her and Xander aren't getting along right now though… She keeps threatening to kill his parrot."

"And suddenly I like the parrot."

"Buffy!" Will chastised, but Buffy could hear the smile in her voice.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop siding with the parrot over your girlfriend. Out loud. Has it learned to say anything other than 'grr argh' yet?"

"Yes," Willow snickered. "It says 'gimme that booty'."

"Oh my god, please tell me it says that to Giles!"

"Only all the time. It also says 'ahoy wench', which it seems to like saying to Kennedy in particular…"

Buffy couldn't help the burst of laughter. "I'm s-sorry!" She gasped, trying to get herself under control. "Really. I just- just keep picturing it!"

"It _is_ pretty funny," Willow said with a giggle. "I actually kinda like the parrot. It's cute and it keeps things interesting."

"Right, because I'm sure you're all about the boring there at headquarters," Buffy said, heavy on the sarcasm as she wiped her eyes.

"It's just the monotony, you know? Demons here, apocalypse there, Slayers whining all over."

"Hey!"

"Not you! I didn't mean you! No whining from Buffy! I meant, you know, the other girls. The new ones. I haven't heard enough from you lately to know if you're whiny. But if you are, that's okay! I'm good if you want to whine about something."

"Chill Will," Buffy said with a snicker. "Nothing to whine about. Well, I guess I could whine about Spike and Angel showing up here to check out my new boyfriend…"

"Wait. WHAT? New boyfriend? Exes going on jealous rampages? Turmoil and love triangles? Why did I not hear of this?"

"Will!" Buffy laughed. "It wasn't like that!"

She went on to explain about Dawn and her determination to give Buffy a hobby in the form of hot monkey sex with a stranger. But how Sam, with his floppy hair, dimples, occasional adorable awkwardness combined with his random bursts crazy beast-man sex appeal drew Buffy in and had her interested in more than just the occasional pelvic meeting. She told her about the bounty hunting and Spike and Angel showing up, Mrs. Stanowski, Faith and Dean, and then looped back around to Sam again.

"He said he loved me this morning…"

"He did! Awww! Buffy that's great! I mean, it _is_ great, isn't it? Unless it's not and you don't love him…"

"I do. But the way he said it, he just kind of slipped it into a conversation and I think it was by accident. It didn't really seem like the time to tell him I felt the same."

"But you do? You feel the same?"

"Oh, I'm completely in love with him. But how do I tell him that? I don't want it to seem like I'm saying it just because he is. But if I wait too long, he might not think I feel the same… And suddenly I feel like I'm in high school again."

"But high school is good! Well, not _our_ high school, but you know, the whole crazy intense love feelings and all. I'm so excited for you!"

"Well, don't get too excited yet. I still have to find a way to tell him about the whole Slayer thing. A big slice of the 'what could happen' pie chart says he'll 'run far, far away' when he learns that little tidbit."

"Maybe you shouldn't tell him."

"What? And just keep lying to him?"

"No, no, lying's bad. I'm not saying that. It's just… You don't have to be the Slayer anymore. You can really do the bounty hunting stuff. You said you really liked it, right? And you're practically retired from the slaying anyway."

"That's good in theory, Will. But we both know it isn't that easy. There's always going to be something. And… it's part of who I am. It took me a long time to accept that, but I'm okay with it now. And I think Sam should know if this is going to go anywhere."

"Well, at least think about it," Willow said. "You know Xander and I are going to have to meet him, right? Give the Scooby stamp of approval."

"We're going to stamp what now?" Xander's voice came from the background. "Because if it's the black, black heart of a certain Watcher, then I'm in."

"That infernal bird of yours _should not_ have been in there, Xander," Giles voice came next, filled with what she was sure Spike would call shirtyness or whatever. "The books in there are centuries old, we can't have parrots… defecating on them."

"That doesn't mean you had to go all Harry Potter on him and blast all his feathers off! Look at him! Look! He's like a tiny plucked chicken! And he hasn't spoken once… You've traumatized him! He has PTSD! Every time he sees a book he starts shaking!"

"Wow, you used magic, Giles? Against Xander's bird?" Willow asked, sounding a little shocked.

"Just a small feather removal spell I found in one of the new acquisitions," Giles went on, sounding a little guilty. "I memorized it to clean up the mess the bloody thing leaves all over and it just kind of… popped out."

The rest of the conversation was spent more on catching up than any actual work. Andrew came in at one point and started singing the praises of Spike as soon as he heard he'd been to see Buffy. It was a little disturbing… Then Kennedy showed up and she and Buffy shared some veiled insults. The bird overcame its muteness and called her a 'scurvy wench' at one point, then everything dissolved into the chaotic sounds of yelling and things breaking.

Buffy hung up and leaned back in her chair. She loved them, really she did. And she missed them. But sometimes she was really glad to be somewhere a little less with the crazy these days. Well, okay, not exactly _these days_. But most days. Hopefully, now that things were official with Sam, they'd get more of those peaceful days together. No more interfering exes or wild sister Slayers bursting in on them for a while. There was still his brother, but now that Faith was gone he'd calm down a little. Or maybe not… Either way, it didn't matter - Sam needed to patch things up with his family, and if that meant Dean hanging around for a while, then so be it.

A knock at the door drew her out of her thoughts and she did a quick check to make sure nothing incriminating was out before going to answer it. Sam loomed on the other side and she couldn't help the smile that bloomed on her face at the sight of him. He smiled back at her before moving into her personal space and kissing her suddenly and fiercely.

"Well, hello to you, too," she said breathlessly when he released her. "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining."

"Listen, there's something up with my dad. I need to leave with Dean and I'll probably be gone for a few days."

"Oh, so that was like a goodbye kiss?" She asked, trying to hide her disappointment and the momentary swell of panic. _They always leave, he's not coming back, they always leave, he's not-_ She swallowed down those swirling thoughts.

"No, just something to hold onto until I get back."

"For me or you?" She asked playfully, the 'until I get back' part calming her a little.

"Well, for me, but it can be for you, too, I guess," he said with a smile.

"So, is everything alright? With your dad?"

"Probably, Dean just hasn't heard from him in a while and he's not answering his phone. Plus, I wanted to get things straight with him, so we're just going to go up there."

"Oh, well, I might have people in the area if you want me to send someone to check on him," she offered.

"Nah, that's alright," he said, giving her a small smile. Buffy wasn't sure if it was just her insecurities speaking, but it looked a little forced. "Me and Dean'll take care of it."

"Oh, okay. Let me know if you change your mind," she said with a shrug. "When are you leaving?"

"Well, now actually."

"Now?" Buffy asked, blinking. "That's fast."

"If we leave now, I can probably be back in just a few days, then I'll only miss a couple days of class and one day of work."

"Oh, that's true…"

Part of her was once again reassured by his talk about things he had to come back for (yeah, okay, she had abandonment issues or whatever, she couldn't help it!). But the other part was disappointed that they'd had less than a day together since they decided to try being together. This was the time they were supposed to be soaking in the newness of it, spending days together in bed and smiling like idiots all the time.

"Are you okay? With this, I mean? Because I know we just started something and I'm a total ass for running out already-"

"It's fine," Buffy said, Sam's genuinely worried expression as he ran a hand through his hair pulling her from her selfishness. This was his family. This was much more important than days in bed. Or on the island or kitchen floor or wherever. All those places would still be here when he got back and so would she. "Go find your dad."

He studied her for a moment before letting out a relieved sigh, obviously seeing she was really okay with his leaving. He pulled her too him and hugged her tightly for a moment before a not-so-subtle cough came from the hall. They pulled away to find Dean smirking at them.

"Ready, Sammy?"

"It's Sam, and yeah, I guess I am," Sam said with a sigh, stepping away from her.

"Thanks for letting me stay last night," Dean said, giving her an eyebrow waggle and a smirk.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "No prob. You're Sam's brother, that means you can stay anytime you want."

Dean's eyes softened and she got a glimpse of the real man underneath, not the cocky front she'd seen thus far. He gave her a nod that spoke of genuine thankfulness and turned toward the stairs. Sam gave her one last look and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else, but in the end he just let out a sigh and gave her a little wave as he followed after his brother.

As she watched the black car pull out of the driveway and disappear down the road from her office window, Buffy had a sharp feeling in her gut - it told her that things were about to change. Whether that was good or bad, she didn't know, but it made her nervous nonetheless.

Pushing the feeling of foreboding out of her mind, she let her eyes drift over to Mrs. Stanowski's house. She was surprised the old bat hadn't been over here first thing this morning, nosing around. Then again, a night out with Faith was hard on a young body, Mrs. Stanowski might be down for days…

Deciding the dishes were probably done by now, she decided to head down and put them away. But half-way down the hall her eyes landed on the room Faith and Dean had shared. There was something oily on the handle and what looked like lace poking out from under the door. She pushed the door open with her foot, unwilling to touch the doorknob. Disaster lay beyond. The bed sheets were torn off the bed, something dark was smeared all across the lamp shade and the curtain was half hanging off the window. Faith's weapons bag had what must have been Dean's underwear at one point laying on it, though now they were pretty much in tatters. And… was that a piñata? Inching out of the room backwards, she hooked the toe of her shoe under the handle and pulled the door closed.

Was is possible to rush order a hazmat suit?

* * *

Dean watched the road, determined not to look over at Sam every other minute like his eyes wanted to. It was still a little hard to believe. After years of nothing, Sam had finally called him - wanted him back in his life. And while he couldn't deny that part of him wanted to just give his little brother the finger and tell him to go fuck himself, he just couldn't do that. And now here he was on the road again with Sam at his side, something he never thought he'd see. But there was also the guilt, the knowledge that Sam shouldn't really be here, that he'd had something most hunters never get - a life. And he'd chosen to walk away from that to help look for dad. No, it wasn't permanent, but it was still a slippery slope. If dad really had run off, what would Sam do then? He'd be stuck with the decision of whether he wanted to help Dean track him down or go back to Buffy and Stanford. And no matter which one he chose, the path not taken would eat at him.

Dean didn't like this, didn't like second guessing himself. After he'd gotten Sam's call, he'd figured he'd roll up into Stanford, find Sam living some geekified life, maybe have a girlfriend, a room mate, a hotplate, whatever. Nothing that was important enough to keep him from coming with Dean - teaming up again, saving people, hunting things. What he'd found instead was that Sam had a home. Something Dean had tried over and over again as they grew up to provide the best he could, even with the traveling from town to town, school to school and without dad most of the time, but never could quite get right. Sam had finally found it.

"Dude, do you need to stop and use the bathroom?" Sam asked, pulling him from his thoughts. Looking over, he saw his brother watching him with a raised eyebrow. "You look like you did that time we ate those bad taco's from that roadside stand…"

"Please do _not_ mention that ever again. That's a painful memory for me, I'll probably have nightmares now. And no, I don't have to shit," Dean said, deciding to change the subject. "So, what happened with your roommate at the dorm?"

"Found my gun," Sam said, slouching slightly in his seat like he used to do when they were younger whenever he knew he'd done something stupid. "I mean, I guess it could have been way worse than it was. But he still didn't want me staying there anymore. Then Dawn was suddenly there."

"Dawn... Buffy's sister, right?"

"Yeah, she's… well, she's crazy. Really crazy. But also very stubborn and oddly persuasive…"

"So you just agreed to go live with her sister, some chick you didn't even know?" Dean asked, shooting his brother a skeptical look.

"Well, I did need somewhere to live. But she also mentioned that Buffy was really accident prone, that she thought she might be cursed. It was just a random phrase, but it caught my attention, thought I'd check it out."

"Look at you, big hunter on campus. Thought you were done with all that when you left?" Dean said, aiming for nonchalant. He was determined not to think about the night Sam had left, he didn't want those bitter memories tainting things already.

"Yeah, seems Apple Pie Life, as you call it, is a process."

"So, what happened? She cursed?"

"I actually seriously considered it for a while there. Now I just think it's her life. Weird stuff just happens to her."

"So you checked the whole house for hex bags?"

"Well, no, not all of it… But most of it."

"Sammy…"

"I know, I should check the whole place just to be positive. It's just hard sneaking around."

"So I take it she has no idea about the hunting? That's right, she was wondering about you having a gun, wasn't she?" Dean asked, a vague memory of Buffy saying something about that the night before coming back to him. He'd been a little preoccupied with the sight of Faith at the time to really pay it much attention.

"No, she doesn't know. I've been thinking about telling her… but I don't know how."

"Maybe you shouldn't," he said quietly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"And what? Keep lying to her?"

"It's not really a lie. You're not a hunter anymore."

"And what about how I grew up? My family? What do I say about that?"

"Whatever you've been saying, Sam. Just… I told someone, alright," he admitted, still not looking at Sam. He didn't like thinking about Cassie, it hurt and it made him feel like an idiot, even after all this time. "I thought I- I mean, I just- I thought maybe we could have something more. So I told her."

"I'm guessing this isn't a 'happily ever after' story…" Sam said softly.

"Nah, she threatened to get a restraining order if she ever saw me again. Thought I was batshit insane."

"Dean, I'm sorry. That's-"

"It's done with. I didn't tell you so we could get all weepy and sing ballads or some crap. I told you so you'd know how badly this can go," Dean said, finally looking over at Sam. Guilt and relief skittered over his brother's face before settling on uncertainty. "Just think about it man. Don't go blurtin' crap out, that's all I'm saying. Plus, she's got some awesome digs. Don't wanna go screwing that up."

Sam smiled and some of the angst dissipated. "I know you probably didn't get much sleep, but did you notice how crazy soft those beds are? After all those motels and the dorm, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven."

"No kidding, dude. When I-" Dean's mind froze on the image of the room he and Faith shared last night. The room he'd not even bothered to go back into after Sam said he'd go with him. The room that looked like- "Oh crap…"

"What?"

"The room. I left the room like it was. I forgot to go up and clean it," Dean said, barely seeing the road as a little tendril of panic crept through him.

"How bad was it?"

Dean just cringed, and shot a guilty look over at Sam. That room had been pretty much destroyed. Buffy'd let him stay there, offered to put him up anytime, gave his brother a place to live and this was how he repaid her. That was bad enough. The bigger issue was that Buffy was a little fucking scary. The way she'd whipped him around last night and pinned him like bug… Dean's ego was desperately trying to bury that memory but hadn't quite succeeded yet.

Sam's phone ringing made Dean jump as he contemplated _truly _getting his ass kicked by a girl. Sam glanced down at the name and thrust the phone at Dean.

"WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?" Dean asked, looking at the phone with "Buffy" glowing on the front like it was about to bite him.

Sam shrugged and smirked a little.

"Pray?"


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Seventeen**

Monday was going by pretty quickly for Sam and Dean. They'd found the motel that dad had been staying at and had been hopeful when the clerk told them he'd booked the room until the end of the month. But when they'd gotten in there, they'd found that all his things were gone. All that was left was a bunch of research tacked to the walls. Why would he leave a hunt not finished? That was one of dad's top five rules - _always_ finish what you start. It was almost like he'd expected them (or at least Dean) to come pick up where he left off.

That was all guesswork though, maybe he wasn't really gone at all, maybe he was just checking out a lead somewhere and happened to take his stuff with him? Yeah… sure. But the clerk had said he'd last seen him yesterday, so Sam was holding out hope that he might still come back. Mostly just because thinking they'd missed him by a single day made him want to punch something.

The thing with dad wasn't all that that was bothering Sam, though. It was the dreams… He'd been having them for a few days, but they'd been strange and fuzzy and he really hadn't paid them much attention. Last night they came into sharp focus though. It was the house, Buffy's house, and it was on fire. Flames licked up the walls and smoke filled the room and briefly, he caught a single glimpse of Buffy, then a dark figure pounced on her and he'd snapped awake with a gasp.

The dream left a rotten feeling in his gut, but he kept telling himself it was just some subconscious thing. His worry about telling her about his past, his being a hunter, his family and whatnot combined with what her reaction might be. All that rolled up together into some crazy dream. Knowing that didn't make him feel any less grumpy though.

And now Dean was in jail. Not really a big surprise or anything that hadn't happened before, but it was adding to Sam's aggravation. That dream had him on edge and he was ready to take out this ghost and get back to Palo Alto, not sit around while Dean played twenty questions with the local cops.

_And what about dad?_

Well… he wasn't sure what to do about dad yet. The man was obviously fine - and also up to something. If he truly had left the hunt for them to finish, what had been so much more important that he felt he had to leave immediately? And why had he suggested he and Dean start taking separate hunts anyway? Despite Dean's thoughts on his worth, Sam knew perfectly well that his brother was a fantastic hunter - no way was he slowing their dad down. The only thing Sam could come up with was that it had something to do with his revenge. The one thing that topped all else. He'd gotten a lead of some sort and had wanted Dean out of the way.

But no matter the reasons, Sam knew Dean wouldn't want to stop looking for him. He would come to the same conclusion Sam had - that dad was after the demon that had killed their mother - and he'd want to go after him to watch his back. And that left Sam with a big choice to make. Did he go back to Palo Alto, where school and Buffy waited, or did he go with Dean, to make sure he didn't lose the rest of his family to the same demon that had killed his mother?

His phone rang, jarring him out of his thoughts.

"Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? That's pretty illegal," Dean's voice came over the line. Sam smirked, it had been the quickest way to give Dean a chance at escape so they could get this show on the road. Deciding to tease his brother a little, he brought up the earlier phone call.

"Well, after your talk with Buffy, your time under arrest must've seemed like Amateur Intimidation Hour. You were probably about to die of boredom."

Sam had expected to hear Buffy go on a rampage when Dean had answered her call, but there'd been no yelling. Just a calm, measured drone that he could barely make out from the passenger side. But whatever she'd said in that quiet, unruffled voice had apparently gotten the point across if he was to judge by the way Dean's face paled and how he'd stopped breathing for about fifteen seconds. If Sam hadn't been so scared for his life at the time since Dean was the one driving and he thought he might pass out, he would have laughed. Now that his life wasn't hanging in the balance, he felt perfectly fine with teasing him though. He wished he knew exactly what was said. When he'd asked, Dean had just shaken his head and refused to answer.

"Dude, that is one scary chick you shacked up with. Inventive, too," Dean said, his voice awed and afraid at the same time.

Sam smiled fondly, he loved the fact Buffy could freak his brother out. Shaking himself out of Buffy Thought Land before he got lost there again, he went on to tell Dean about all he'd found out while he'd been in custody about the ghost they were hunting. Dean in turn told him about finding dad's journal, cementing the fact that the man was gone but further deepening the mystery since he never went anywhere without that damn book.

Sam was voicing his confusion when the woman suddenly appeared in the middle of the road.

* * *

Dawn navigated her car toward Buffy's, a determined look on her face. She'd screwed up a lot lately and she planned on making amends. She would've come by yesterday to start on that, but there'd been that big sale at Macy's and a few other of her favorite stores at the mall. An apocalypse couldn't have kept her from that sale, let alone her flimsy flame of guilt. But today was a new day! She'd gone, she'd shopped, she'd conquered and now was ready to face the job of being a good sister. Buffy's revelation the other night was still bothering her. As were Angel's words for her before he left…

"_You really are a spoiled brat," Angel said, his voice quiet and his eyes hard. "As many people as you've lost and here's your sister, right in front of you, and you treat her like dirt."_

"_I don't- that's not-"_

"_Don't play games with me, Dawn. I think you've done that enough lately. You throw this guy at her, obviously for some kind of set up. Then, when she falls for him you throw a fit and plot out ways to make her insecure about it."_

"_I know, I just-"_

"_She came here for you," he said, mowing over he weak explanations in a way she wasn't used to at all. "She left her friends and everything she knew so she could be with you. She's trying to be a good sister."_

"_I know all that already, okay," she whispered furiously, angry at how small he'd just made her feel. "We already did the epiphany thing this afternoon, so you're being redundant."_

"_Oh…" Angel said, straightening up and looking around awkwardly. "Well, then… as long as you know…"_

And she did know. She'd been a crappy sister. But she was going to make up for that now. She was-

Ugh, _what_ was that _smell_? How was she supposed to concentrate on being a better sister when she kept getting random whiffs of cheese, feet and a dog kennel? What exactly had gone on in her car the last time she'd let Sam use it? Maybe she should talk Buffy into letting her have the new car when it arrived and give her the Civic… No! No. She was going to be a better sister, dammit. But Buffy did lose a lot of cars… It seemed like a waste for her to have the new one when it was just going to get destroyed or stolen or something… The Civic wouldn't be that much of a- No! Crap, this better sister thing was going to be harder than she'd first thought.

Pulling into the drive, she cast a look over at Mrs. Stanowski's and saw the curtain move a little, but no one came out. At least she was alive. Dawn had been sure a night out with Faith would kill the old bat. She climbed out of the car and was surprised when the old neighbor lady still didn't come rushing out of her house to accost her about what had gone on here the other night.

Grateful for the reprieve, Dawn entered the house and called out for her sister.

"In the office, Dawn!"

As soon as she got up the stairs, her eyes were drawn to the guest room on the right, which had yellow caution tape crisscrossing the door frame and a bucket of cleaning supplies sitting next to it out in the hall.

"What's up with this?" Dawn asked, seeing Buffy come out of the office.

"Sam's brother, Dean, showed up Saturday night. He and Faith... you know... in there."

"And they didn't clean it up? That's rude," Dawn said, reaching for the handle.

"You don't wanna go in there…"

"How bad can it- Oh my god," Dawn said with wide eyes as she took in the mess, then quickly pulled the door closed again. "You should just set it on fire. Put a candle in there, knock it over and claim it was an accident. Get the insurance people to rebuild that room from scratch - it'll never be the same."

"I'm not committing insurance fraud just to avoid cleaning a room, Dawn," she said, but it took her a second. Dawn could tell she'd briefly considered it. "Go wash your hands now. With bleach."

Dawn nodded, just noticing how her hand was now both sticky and slippery at the same time. _Gross_.

"So, what was Sam's brother like?" She asked, going into Buffy's room to use the bathroom sink.

"A hot guy version of Faith," she said, following her in an plopping down cross-legged on the bed.

"That's scary. And… kinda hot sounding actually," Dawn said, pausing in her hand washing and tilting her head in contemplation. "And apparently he's some kind of beast in the sack if he can keep up with Faith. Hopefully that runs in the family and you have that to look forward to with Sam."

When there was no admonishment or reply of any kind from her sister, Dawn leaned around the doorway to see Buffy determinedly not looking at her, her face a bit pink and a small smile playing on her lips.

"You didn't!" Dawn gasped, and rushed into the room, jumping on the bed next to Buffy. "You _did_! So, how was he?"

"Dawn! We're not talking about this," she said, standing up and walking over to her nightstand to uselessly straighten things.

"Of course we're talking about this! So are you two like, _together_ now? Oh, and _how was he in the sack?_"

"Yes, we're _together_ now. And we're not- okay, he was _amazing!_" She said, spinning back toward Dawn with a big grin on her face. "Like some kind of barely contained animal, but also kind of tender-"

"Okay, that's enough," Dawn said, suddenly regretting her insistence. "I can't be… picturing it. Bleh… So where is he now? Oh, he has work tonight, doesn't he?"

"Actually, he went out of town with his brother. Something to do with their dad. He should be back tomorrow."

"Wait, you two finally get all pelvic and he runs off?" Dawn asked incredulously. Then, seeing Buffy's slight flinch, she scowled. "I'll kill him."

"Dawn, don't be ridiculous. It's fine. I'd expect him to understand if our positions were reversed."

"Still…" Dawn sighed and decided to change the subject. No use in making Buffy feel worse. See! Better sistering already! "So, what about the whole Slayer thing? How are you going to tell him?"

"Willow said I shouldn't tell him at all…"

"That's just stupid. Of course you have to tell him. With all the crazy stuff that happens to you and around you? I know my bounty hunter excuse was brilliant, but it's not going to hold up forever, especially in a real relationship. Plus, I know you. You won't be completely happy if you have to keep lying to him."

"Yeah, that's what I've been thinking, too," she said with scowl. "I just don't want to scare him off…"

"I don't know, he's handled all the weirdness pretty well so far. It's kinda strange how little he's been bothered by it actually…"

They both sat in silence for a minute before Dawn remembered the gift she'd gotten Buffy during her shopping trip the day before. Grabbing her purse from where she'd dropped it on a chair, she dug through it until she found the little bag inside.

"Here, I got you something."

A look of surprise that made Dawn feel about an inch tall flashed across Buffy's face as she took the gift. Seconds later she pulled out a silver flask with stylish curling design wrapped around it in black.

"Now you can carry holy water in style."

"Aw! Thanks, Dawnie! Wow, this is so cute!"

"I know! Look, mines pink," she said, pulling out her own little flask. "I bought yours and got mine for free!"

"Or you bought yours and got _mine_ for free…"

"Sure, if you wanna make me sound like a douchebag," Dawn said, rolling her eyes and squishing down the little fact that that was exactly how it went down. Hey, she'd thought of her and that was what counted, right?

* * *

The demon formally know as Brady (or well, actually _still_ known as Brady, really) leaned against a tree as he waited for his prey to show. He knew that his plan had worked, that Sam and Jessica had decided to go on a date Saturday night. What he wanted to know was how that went. He'd planned on going to Sam, obviously, since they were "best friends". But Winchester hadn't shown up today and wasn't answering his calls. He was hoping the two had jumped in the sack right after dinner and were spending a few days fucking and doing whatever humans did when they fell in love. The quicker Sam got attached, the quicker they could move on to the next part of their plan and get to killing her.

So he was waiting outside the building Jessica's class was in to see if she was out for the day, too. No such luck, the blond came through the door near the end of the pack and headed away from him. He bit his tongue to keep the curses from spilling out. What was wrong with Winchester? Couldn't he seal the fucking deal? Jessica should be fucked eight ways from Sunday by now and unable to even pull herself out of bed. Growling lowly, he pushed away from the tree and headed after the group.

"Hey, Jessica! Wait up!" He called, jogging over to her and putting on a bright smile. "How'd the date with Sam go?"

"It didn't," she said, sounding slightly peevish. "You could have warned me that he was into someone else, Brady."

"Someone else?" He asked, keeping his face politely confused while rage started to simmer in his stomach.

"Please. You two are best friends, right? You can't tell me you didn't know about the other girl he's pretty much in love with."

"He didn't say anything about liking another girl to me. I'm serious," he added seeing her skeptical look. And it was true (for a change). He hadn't _said_ anything, but he'd _known_ from the way Winchester talked about Buffy Summers that something else was going on there. He'd hoped that by throwing Jessica at him, he'd be able to stop that in its tracks… "I swear, the only girl he ever talked about was you. Why don't you give him another chance? He could-"

"Forget it," she said shaking her head and looking at him suspiciously. "The fact that you didn't even know he liked someone else and now want me to go out with him _again_ after you _do _know, makes me question your friend credentials."

Without giving him a chance to reply, she spun away from him and rushed back to the group that had stopped to wait on her. It took every ounce of will power he had not to set the bitch on fire right where she stood. Everything was fucked now - sweet little Jessica Moore was off the list to play the victim that sent Sam back into the hunting world and filled his heart with revenge, and now she was suspicious of Brady himself as well. He doubted Sam would take her too seriously if she mentioned her doubts to him, but the seed that Brady might not be all he seemed would be planted.

All because of Buffy Summers.

Buffy Summers. The Slayer. Not someone he really wanted to tangle with. But he wanted to be on Azazel's bad side even less. It would've been much easier to have Sam fall for Jessica and then kill her. With all her sweetness and charm it would have been a devastating blow. But if he really felt for Summers the way Jessica thought he did, it could still work out the same way. Granted, taking out a Slayer was going to be much more challenging, but what the hell, he'd give it a go. Not that he had much choice…

He needed to make sure Sam was out of the way first though. He'd go to the bookstore tonight, see if he was working. If he was, he'd go take care of that bitch Summers then. If not… Hmm, well, he'd wait and see if Sam was at school tomorrow. And if he wasn't, he'd just have to go over there tomorrow and "check on his friend".


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Eighteen**

Buffy was glancing through the 'failed to appear' files, pondering actually trying her luck going after one of them. It had turned out alright last time and she hadn't even been trying, so maybe she should give it a shot. It would be something to do at least. She was dying of boredom here. No demons, no apocalypse, no vamps, no crazy neighbor lady. She'd actually had fun with Dawn yesterday, they'd gone out to dinner and did some shopping. It had been nice. But she was in class today, and as fun as it had been, Buffy wasn't expecting it to be a daily thing.

Oh, and Sam was still gone. That was the big reason she was looking for something to do. She wanted to keep her mind off of him - where he was, what he was doing… if he was coming back. He'd said he'd thought he'd be back on Tuesday, which was today, but she didn't want to be all clingy so she hadn't called him to find out if that was still right.

She was flipping through a domestic violence case that looked promising (how she'd love to knock some macho jerk down a couple pegs) when a knock at the door came. Shutting the file with a sigh, she headed out of the office, eyeing the still quarantined room with distaste as she went by. Downstairs, she opened the front door to find a UPS man was waiting on the other side with a package and a smile.

"About time," she muttered in irritation, signing and taking the box from him. "It was supposed to be here yesterday."

"Sorry, ma'am, we didn't receive the package until yesterday. We got it to you today - that's one day."

Buffy just nodded and watched the guy go in a daze. Ma'am… he'd called her _ma'am_! She really _was_ getting old! She took the box into the kitchen, walking with slumped shoulders and dragging her feet.

Ma'am…

Pulling a pair of scissors out of a drawer and cutting the box open, Buffy's sour mood was… well, it was still there when she saw the contents. True, she'd been waiting impatiently for the hazmat-like suit to arrive, but now that it was here, it just meant she got to go clean that hellhole of a room. Not exactly something to dance for joy about. She'd thought about leaving it for Dean to do, they _were_ supposed to be back today after all. But what if they _didn't_ come back? That room had already sat like that for two days. Things were probably starting to mold… or multiply… She shuddered. Nah. Best to just get it done with.

At least she'd had fun threatening Dean with what would happen if he ever did anything like that again. She'd used the old ribcage for a hat line, one of her favorites, as well as a few new ones she'd picked up from Dawn. That girl's mind was a scary place… She'd also called Faith and yelled at her, but Faith wasn't impressed. She'd said, "Well, you stabbed me and put me in a coma. I fucked up your room. Guess we're even." How do you argue with that? She knew Faith wasn't really holding a grudge, but she'd still use it as her ace up the sleeve for every argument. Well, Faith had given her some relief from Mrs. Stanowski, that might be worth the price actually…

Ten minutes later, Buffy was suited up and looking like she was in some epidemic movie, standing in front of the room like she was going into battle. She pulled the caution taped down and made the sign of the cross, the material of the suit crinkling as she moved.

"As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil… and that's all I know. Gotta count for something, right?"

It was an hour later (that felt like two lifetimes) when the doorbell rang. Buffy was half annoyed to be interrupted, she was on a roll and ready to be done in there, but she was also half grateful for the break. The things she'd seen in there… She'd need a harsh mental scrub when this was all finished. Seeing the bag of weapons by the door, she toed Dean's undies off of it and carried it down with her. She had a clean duffle downstairs, she could switch the weapons over and throw this one in the washing machine.

Leaving the bag by the laundry room door, she pulled off the suit helmet-thing and took a brief moment to lament how she probably looked (both the state of her hair and the fact she was _wearing a freaking hazmat suit_) before going to the door . The visitor had just pressed the bell again when Buffy answered.

A nice looking blond guy, stood there. Taller than her, but not nearly as tall as Sam, he was dressed in khaki's and a polo shirt, giving her a polite smile

Oh, and he was sending her Slayer spidey senses into overdrive.

"Hi, I'm Brady, a friend of Sam's," he said offering his hand. As little as she wanted to touch whatever this was, she forced herself to smile back and shake his hand, the plastic of the suit crinkling slightly in his grip. Whatever this thing was, she couldn't let it leave and she couldn't exactly engage it on her front lawn with the late afternoon sun beating down on them. Stepping aside she motioned him in.

"Sorry, I'm being rude. Why don't you come in?"

Brady hesitated a second, before nodding.

"Thank you."

Stopping in the entryway, he looked around curiously. "This is a very nice place. I can definitely see why Sam would prefer staying here over the dorms."

"Uh, thanks," Buffy said, trying to figure out a discrete way to edge her way back to the laundry room door off of the dining room where Faith's bag still sat.

"So, where is Sam? Since he wasn't at school yesterday or today and I couldn't reach him on his phone, I was getting a little worried."

"Oh, well, Sam's out of town for the moment," Buffy said. How did this thing really know Sam? Was it just using his name as an in to get at her? The thought pissed her off and she gave up on being sneaky.

"Okay, so, I gotta ask, do you seriously just walk around with all that evil hanging out? You really should tuck that away before someone notices."

His eyes looked momentarily surprised, then he smirked, his eyes going entirely black. She made the first move, catching him in the face with a sharp hook, he took it with barely a flinch and ducked under her second swing. She was adjusting to his speed when he sent a kick to her stomach that had her stumbling back toward the dining room.

Black eyes, black eyes… that was familiar. Then she remembered - wasn't there a kind of rare demon that possessed a human host? Didn't she remember Giles mentioning something like that? Work, brain, work!

"You want to be careful doing things like that," the demon chastised, rubbing his jaw. "Sam's friend is still in here. How would he feel if he knew you killed his BFF Brady?"

Buffy paused at that little revelation, giving "Brady" just enough time to start a freakin' fire.

Fantastic.

Flames whipped into existence all around her, but she was out of the immediate burn path with a quick flip. She landed and stared at her burning dining room table in aggravation (you know you're jaded when someone magically setting your furniture on fire is an annoyance and not really a shock).

"I only got to use that table once," she growled. She'd had a big dinner there when she'd first moved in - Dawn, Giles, Xander, Willow, Kennedy, Andrew, Faith - they'd all come. It'd been a good night.

Brady didn't answer, just threw a hand out toward her - there was a little burst of pressure that sent her sliding back a few feet and that was it. They both stared at each other a moment.

"Uh? Was that it? Or are you just having performance issues? We can try again in a few minutes if you want?"

He growled and came at her again, black eyes glittering and reflecting the steadily increasing flames. She ducked and dodged and skipped back. Now, here was the dilemma - how did she kill the demon without killing Sam's friend in the process? She supposed it could be lying, but could she take that risk? Then it hit her - some demon had possessed Sam's friend to get at her… This was awful! She was already contaminating his life!

A sharp jab sent her stumbling, pulling her focus back. Dropping low, she punched him viciously in the nuts. It wouldn't be fatal and it slowed him down - wasn't like the guy really _needed_ to ever have kids. She dove at him while he was doubled over, trying to get him pinned. Although she wasn't sure what she'd do if she succeeded… Maybe if she could just find a way to get him subdued, she could get Giles on the phone and he'd figure out some mojo to give this guy a demonic enema.

They tumbled around on the floor, Buffy trying to curb her strength and get a good grip on him without breaking anything vital, but he wasn't making it easy. He was constantly moving and squirming and the damned plastic gloves attached to the suit were making it impossible to get a good grip. The suit was also making it hard for _him_ to get a grip on _her_ though. They were rolling closer to the table inferno now, distracting Buffy with images of her hair going up in smoke and allowing Brady the split second distraction he needed to get his hands around her throat.

That was also the moment Sam and Dean burst into the dining room.

* * *

The sight of the house when they pulled into the drive caused relief to roll through Sam. They'd shut down the Woman in White late last night, had spent the night at the hotel (which Sam had wanted to protest, but thought it would be too weird) and left this morning. He wasn't sure why, but the closer they'd gotten to Palo Alto, the more anxious he'd started feeling - like he'd find something awful when they got there. But there was the house, right in front of him, all quiet and in one piece. He shook his head slightly as they climbed out of the car, feeling like an idiot for getting so worked up.

Dean was quiet next to him as they started up the walk. He'd been so for the entire trip here, just blasting AC/DC and watching the road with far more intensity than necessary. Sam figured his mind was on dad, planning his next step and wondering what the hell the man was up to. Or maybe he was just worried about facing Buffy again after what he'd done to her guest room…

They were about halfway to the house when Mrs. Stanowski stopped them. He hadn't seen her since before she went out with Faith, but the little adventure seemed to have revitalized her. She was shuffling a little faster than usual and standing up a little straighter.

"I don't think you want to go in there, just now," she said, stopping next to them and nodding at the door. "Buffy has her a real nice looking young man over. They've been going at it for a good fifteen minutes. The sounds coming out of there - Ohhheee! Makes me wish I was twenty years younger."

Dean cringed, obviously getting a mental picture against his will and then looked to Sam. The fact that Buffy had a guy over complete eclipsed the unwanted image for Sam, though. A ridiculous wave of jealously washed through him, before sense reasserted itself. No way was Buffy in there having sex with some other guy like the neighbor was suggesting. So, who was he? What was he doing there? A loud crash and a loud thud from inside the house made them all jump slightly.

"See there? Going at it like animals," Mrs. Stanowski said, nodding again.

Sam took off for the door, the knot of dread back in his chest full force. He could hear Dean pounding up the walk behind him as he burst through the front door, his questioning "Sammy?" almost unheard over the pounding of his heart. The house smelled like smoke and he followed the sounds of a scuffle back toward the dining room.

The first thing that struck Sam when he got to the doorway was the similarity to his dream, giving the moment a surreal feeling that had him off balance. The dining room table was on fire and it was trying to spread across the carpet and up a wall. Smoke was filling the room and starting to ooze past him out into the hall. But the weirdest thing about the scene was the people. For a moment, Sam just stood there and blinked. Buffy was on the floor, in what looked like a full decontamination suit, just missing the hood. And on top of her, his hands around her neck, was _Brady_.

Then Brady looked over at him, the surprise that must have been on Sam's face echoed on his own, but all Sam saw was black eyes.

After the shock came white hot rage. Some _demon_ was in his best friend, _choking_ his girlfriend. His feet carried him across the room without a second thought and he tackled the demon/Brady off of Buffy. He could hear her coughing behind him, both relieving him and pissing him off even more. His anger at the demon for daring to lay a hand on her was equaled by his anger at himself. He'd done this. He'd brought this here. He didn't know how or why, but why else would the thing be here? It wasn't like Buffy was in the demon hunting game. His fist connected twice with Brady's face before the demon twisted and shoved him away with incredible strength, sending him sliding across the floor and into Dean's legs, almost bowling him over.

Suddenly, dad's journal was shoved in his face.

"Hope you kept up on your Latin, Sammy," Dean said, leaving the book with him and rushing the demon.

Sam looked down to see the words for an exorcism scribbled across the page in dad's untidy scrawl. He started reading them immediately, angling the book toward the fire to see the words better. He started off slow, but picked up speed as he started remembering dad drilling them on it. Long unused Latin words coming quicker and more confidently. Dean was fighting a loosing battle against the demon and Sam knew he needed to end this quickly. He could hear Buffy moving around behind him, but kept his eyes on the book. It wasn't until he heard her speak that he stopped. It wasn't her voice that shocked him into stillness though. It was her words.

"Hey, you demon-y assclown! Get in line. I get to pummel Dean first."

* * *

Part of Buffy was glad to see Dean and Sam arrive, it _did_ get the demon to stop choking her after all, which was a definite plus. But mostly she just felt dread. What were _they_ going to do against a _demon_? She was rubbing her throat and getting her air back, planning out her next step when she heard Sam start speaking in tongues. Was that Latin? Was Sam doing an exorcism? Would that actually work? And how did Sam know about exorcisms in the first place? Okay, not the time…

Whatever was going on, the demon seemed pissed about it. It and Dean were rolling around on the floor much like it and Buffy had been moments before. The difference being that instead of the two of them fighting, it was more like Dean was trying to stick to the demon like a giant, annoying burr. He was keeping it occupied, she realized. Giving Sam time to finish the exorcism. Deciding she should actually _help_ instead of sitting around watching, she scurried over to Faith's weapons bag. She wasn't even sure if the exorcism would work and she needed a way to take the demon down before it killed one of the Winchesters.

The first thing Buffy came across was the Scythe. The Scythe! Wheee! Wait, can't kill the kid… Useless Scythe then… She huffed and tossed the Scythe back in and dug around some more, the flickering from the flames sending shifting shadows over the contents and making it impossible to see what was in there. She hoped she didn't cut off a finger…

Then her hand brushed something promising, long and heavy, but flexible, some kind of baton, maybe? Didn't matter, she was out of time, the demon was getting the upper hand in its scuffle with Dean and would be free from him in seconds.

Yanking the item out, she ran forward, yelling for its attention as she went.

"Hey, you demon-y assclown! Get in line. I get to pummel Dean first."

It spun toward her voice just as she'd hoped and she swung the baton, smacking the demon right in the face with it. It stumbled back a few steps and everything stilled as they all stared at the item in Buffy's hand.

A giant black dildo. She'd just smacked a demon in the face with a giant fake penis. Definitely a first.

Dean let out the snicker of a twelve year old boy and Buffy might have done the same if she wasn't the one _touching _it. She was suddenly really grateful for the suit gloves she'd been cursing just minutes before. Sam had paused in his reading but quickly peeled his eyes off the dildo in Buffy's hand and finished the rite. The demon cried out and collapsed to its knees, then a noxious black smoke poured out of its mouth, curling in the air for a moment before zipping up through a vent. The body collapsed face first on the carpet.

Everything was quiet now except the crackling of the still growing fire and the sound of all of them panting slightly. Sam looked at his unconscious friend and around at the fire damage, then back at Buffy.

"Smoking mice?" He asked, a speculative gleam in his eyes.

"Uh-huh," Buffy answered, giving him the same look.

He opened his mouth, obviously about to start the questioning when her head whipped toward the doorway, her Slayer warning system going from zero to red alert in a split second. She caught a glimpse of purple hair before she was slammed into a nearby wall. All she could think was, "Why does Mrs. Stanowski have yellow eyes?"


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**Chapter Nineteen**

Sam's back hit the wall with a harsh thud and a whoosh of lost air. Dean following a split second later a few feet away. Mrs. Stanowski obviously had been possessed, but for how long? And by what? He didn't think he'd ever heard of demons having yellow eyes before… Now he was kicking himself, remembering how much easier the old woman had moved earlier. He should've been more suspicious, he should've known something was off…

"So, this is the Slayer," it said in its old woman voice, sounding amused as it walked over to Buffy. "Gotta say, thought you'd be taller."

"I get that a lot," Buffy said with a stiff shrug, looking like getting stuck to walls was an everyday occurrence and she was thoroughly bored with it.

Wait… Slayer? _Slayer?_

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Dean muttered in shock next to him, wide eyes locked on Buffy.

This whole time… she'd been…

"_One girl in all the world_-" the words on the page floated back to him, a myth his father had scoffed at when asked. A story that he'd pushed away but never really forgotten.

The demon was smirking at her, "Still cocky, even in this position."

"Rather be up here than in there," she answered, crinkling her nose as she looked down at it.

"I must admit," it said looking down at Mrs. Stanowski's body. "This isn't really my kind of meat suit. But there's a lot to be said for convenience."

Sam was only half listening to the banter. Mostly, he was still floundering about the "Slayer" revelation - putting all the pieces together. When she'd called Brady out as a demon, he'd thought maybe she was just familiar with the supernatural, or maybe she was from a hunting family. But a _Slayer_? Now, looking back on it, it was obvious - the first time he'd seen her, the microwave, the exploding car, the mission in vampire territory, all the bumps and bruises and how fast they'd disappear. He swung between feeling betrayed and being excited. Now wasn't exactly the time to decipher his feelings though. The demon was advancing on Buffy. He tried wiggling around, seeing if there was any give in whatever telekinetic power was pinning him. There wasn't. Glancing over at Dean, he saw his brother was having similar results.

"Actually, this isn't really the way I imagined things going. But, you know how that goes, the best laid plans and all that," the demon was saying. Then it paused to eye an object on the floor. "That is one _hell_ of a dildo. Yours?"

"Nope, that's Faith's. One of the _other_ Slayers. You know, there's like a crapload of us now."

"So _that's_ how she could do that thing with her-"

"Dean!" Sam hissed, in no mood to hear what amazing feat Faith could perform. Meanwhile, his brain was bursting with questions.

"Yeah, I heard about that," it said slowly, stopping about a foot from Buffy. "That's why I was hoping it wouldn't come down to this. Things get a little tough when you've got Slayers breathing down your neck. But, hey, a demon's gotta do what a demon's gotta do. And what my boss wants trumps an army of idiot girls with too much power."

A black blur suddenly came from the hall, slamming into The Stanowski Demon, sending the two of them to the floor in a furious scuffle. It lasted only about three seconds before the black blur was sent flying back. Spike landed just as Sam and Dean's feet hit the ground, momentarily freed by the distraction the bleach blond had provided. He blinked up at Sam from his position on the floor with glassy eyes.

"Damn, those bony fists pack a punch," he slurred.

Angel rushed in at that point, engaging the demon.

"I _told_ you it went north!" He said, ducking under a swing.

"No you bloody well didn't! You said the damn thing went east!" Spike growled back, looking pissed and scrambling to his feet as he pulled out a wicked looking dagger.

"Wait! You can't _kill_ Mrs. Stanowski!" Buffy said, also released from her wall. She'd darted forward and grabbed the still unconscious Brady under the arms and was dragging him out of the fight zone.

"Why the bloody hell not?" Spike whined. "Bird's on her last legs anyway."

"Spike," Buffy and Angel said in unison, the warning obvious in their voices.

"Right, right, no killing then," he said with a sigh, tucking the knife away. He stood there watching Angel and the demon for a second before giving a shrug and turning away. "I'll leave this one to you, Peaches. Going out for a smoke."

"Spike!" Angel bellowed to no effect, earning a punch to the jaw for his inattention that sent him flying.

Spike, true to his word, sauntered right out of the room. Grabbing Brady and pulling out a cigarette as he went. The ceiling gave an ominous groan as soon as he was gone - the fire having climbed up one of the walls and now spreading above them.

"I've always wanted to box with a super strong old lady," Dean said, looking a little gleeful as he rushed into the fray, taking Angel's spot. Seconds later he was airborne, almost hitting the burning ceiling before coming back down right where he'd started from. "Not as much fun as I thought it'd be," he groaned.

Buffy had taken his place and was dipping and dodging around the room as the demon lit more things on fire. Angel came out of nowhere, tackling the demon again and Sam took his chance to get over to Buffy.

"Has she been a demon this whole time?" He asked as they watched and waited for an opening to help Angel.

"I don't think so, Spike and Angel would have smelled it," she said distractedly.

"_Smelled_ it?"

"They're both vampires."

Sam was so busy gaping at Buffy that he never saw Angel soaring through the air toward him. The two went down in a tangle of limbs and cursing. Peeking out from under Angels armpit as they both tried to scramble free, he saw Buffy had reengaged the demon. Movement at the door caught his attention and a tiny dark haired woman and a scruffy man in glasses appeared there. The man had some kind of tank strapped to his back and hose leading off of it into his hand.

"Buffy! Down!" The man yelled. Buffy reacted in an instant, dropping to the floor and rolling away as the man aimed the hose at the demon. A foul smelling yellow slime came shooting out of it all over the possessed Mrs. Stanowski. It stood there in shock for a second as the goo covered her, then her eyes rolled up and she collapsed.

They stood there silently for a moment, watching the old woman cautiously for any sign of movement, but she was still. Buffy broke the quiet with a snicker as she eyed the scruffy man.

"If there's something wrong… in the neighborhood… who ya gonna call?" She sang, still giggling. Dean and the tiny new woman joined her for the "Ghostbusters!"

"You're not aloud to tease me," he said to the woman, his voice British and stern but a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "You're the one that designed it to look like this."

She blushed and gave a little helpless shrug. "It was the most effective method of distribution," she said, a slight southern twang to her words. "I always had a crush on Egon," she added, managing to look shy and daring at the same time.

"Wesley totally equals Egon," Buffy snickered.

"Uh, fire extinguisher?" Dean asked as he walked quickly to the door joined by Angel, reminding them the room was on fire.

"Garage," Buffy called back. "So what exactly _is_ that?"

"It's something Fred came up with," they guy Sam guessed was named Wesley answered. "A combination of things only she'd be able to explain that puts the both the demon and the host in a suspended state. It also keeps the demon contained until an extraction can be performed."

The woman blushed at all the eyes that turned on her and gave a little smile, ducking her head, "It wasn't any big deal. Just a combination of spells and good old fashioned science."

So _that_ was _Fred_? Weird…

Dean and Angel came back then, both with a fire extinguisher in hand, and proceeded to douse the flames. They watched as white foam covered the now charred nub of a table. The walls were black, the carpet gone and the ceiling a mess. Buffy looked at it in a resigned kind of irritation before looking back down at Mrs. Stanowski.

"So, extraction?" she said a little nervously. "That's sounds… painful."

"Oh, it shouldn't be," Fred piped up earnestly. "Getting the demon out isn't the problem, it's getting rid of it after it's free from its host that's an issue. This type of demon tends to just go straight back to Hell when extracted. There's nothing but rumors about how to actually kill one."

"We're going to test some theories," Wesley said, looking more than a little sinister at that moment.

"And Mrs. Stanowski?"

"We'll take her back to Wolfram and Hart, extract the demon. She should be fine," Angel answered.

The ceiling gave another groan above them, charred and soot covered with gaping holes in places. It was the only thing that kept Sam from exploding with questions of his own - including, but not limited to, what the hell Wolfram and Hart had to do with demons.

"Uh, maybe we should talk about this somewhere else," he suggested. "That ceiling probably won't last-"

Of course the ceiling chose that moment to collapse, as if it had known they were talking about it. Wesley grabbed Fred and yanked her out the door first since they were closest, Sam snatched up gooey Mrs. Stanowski and bounded out after them with Dean and Buffy behind him and Angel pulling up the rear, dodging falling debris.

They all stopped in the entryway, dirty and breathing hard. Sam sat Mrs. Stanowski gently on the ground, trying not to slide in the slime that had dripped onto the tiled floor. Wesley and Fred looked about the same as they had when they arrived, just a little dustier. Sam wasn't sure what he looked like, but it couldn't be worse than Dean, whose hair and face were black with ash. Then again, maybe it could, since now he had the snot like yellow substance all over him from carrying Mrs. Stanowski. Angel, despite having been pummeled by a hundred and ten year old woman, looked remarkabley unruffled and Sam had to fight not to stare now that he knew he was a vampire. Buffy… Buffy had her eyes rolled up trying to see a black item that was laying on her head, part of it dangling down her forehead. She pulled it off, gripping it with the very tips of her fingers only and held it away from her.

Underwear. It was pair of guy's underwear. Or it used to be - they looked like they'd been mauled by a wild animal.

Buffy flung them away from her with a little shriek and turned her narrowed eyes on Dean.

"You get a ten second head start."

He was out the door in a flash. Sam watched him go in confusion before realizing those were _Dean's_ underwear. He looked back down the hall, mentally mapping the house - the room his brother and Faith had shared sat directly above the dining room.

Buffy gave an aggravated huff as the Impala roared to life outside.

"That room couldn't be destroyed _before _I started cleaning it?"

A half an hour later Angel and his entourage had left (after an argument in the front yard between him and Spike of course), taking Mrs. Stanowski with them - promising they'd have her back in a few days, and also taking the still unconscious but seemingly unharmed Brady to the hospital on their way. Angel had seemed like he was in a hurry to leave, but Sam was too tired to really question it. Dean still hadn't reappeared and Buffy had decided it was too much work to actually chase after him. Now it was just the two of them, freshly showered and sitting on the front porch while the house sat with all its windows open, airing out the smell of smoke. There'd be a lot of work to do in there, and he really should get to the hospital to see how Brady was doing, but right now, he just wanted to sit.

"Guess we have some stuff to talk about," Buffy said from her rocking chair.

"Guess so," Sam answered without any enthusiasm from his own chair. All the questions he'd had had fizzled down with his exhaustion.

"I'm a Slayer," Buffy said, sounding just as tired as he felt. "You know what that is?"

"Uh huh. I'm a hunter. You know what that is?"

"Uh huh," she answered.

Silence settled between them, the only sound that of the slight breeze tugging at the trees and the crickets.

"So… good talk," Buffy said after a few minutes.

A smile fought its way past Sam's fatigue and that's when it hit him - Buffy was still just Buffy.

"I have lots of questions," he said turning in his chair a little to see her. She tensed a little and looked grim in the dim light. "But… none of them seem to matter right now. So, you're not a bounty hunter, you're a Slayer. I didn't fall in love with you because of your job, I love you because of who you are. I don't know how you feel about all this - I mean, the fact that I'm a hunter and not just some college guy, but I know that I like what we have here. Can we-"

And suddenly his rocking chair tipped back dangerously and he was hit with and armful of Buffy. Her hands on the sides of his face and her lips kissing him feverishly.

"I don't- It doesn't-" she choked out, her eyes bright as they started into his. "I like what we have here, too. I'm happy here. With you. I don't know if it's possible… but can we try?"

"Try?" He breathed out, thrown off balance by her warmth and her closeness.

"Try and stay happy?"

A smile broke out on his face as he answered, "I'd like that."

And then he was kissing her, pulling her tightly against him and sending the rocking chair tilting madly again.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

Author's Note: Special thanks go out to Isugirl, who wondered innocently in her review - "what happened to Brady?" Answer - the author was an idiot and left him on the dining room floor. Oops! I've gone back and corrected that now. For those of you that read it before that, all you have to know is Brady was dragged out of harms way and was last seen being taken to a hospital thanks to Angel and Co. I am so, so sorry about that!

Also, I want to thank Wolfie! If it weren't for her Sam/Buffy vids, I don't think I would have really given this pairing a chance. Thanks Wolfie! :-)

Oh, and (last one, I swear) I want to thank all you fantastic reviewers! You guys are awesome. Seriously. And this fic got done because of your support. Thank you so much!

**Chapter Twenty**

Buffy laid sprawled on top of Sam on the couch, the thumping of his heart under her ear combining with the thumping of the work going on in the dining room. The windows were all open and a breeze drifted through the room, pulling on the white curtains.

"So… you _died_? More than once?" He said slowly. "Relationship ground rule number one - no more dying."

Sam was trying to keep his voice light, but Buffy could tell by the way his arms tightened slightly around her and the increase in his heart rate that he was thrown by this newest revelation. They'd been slowly revealing their pasts to each other over the last two days. It would take some time to get through all of it and some of it would be painful to relive, but there was no rush.

"Cross my heart, no more dying," Buffy said, snuggling deeper into Sam's embrace.

A thud followed by some cursing and something getting dragged made her pick her head up and peer at the hall, Sam twisting under her to do the same. Dean appeared seconds later, the charred dining room table wrapped in plastic and on his back as he stomped, stooped over, toward the front door, a foul look on his face. Glancing in the living room and spotting them, his scowl got darker.

"This is ridiculous! You're the one with the super strength!"

"And you're the one in the negative on the Buffy Points Scale. So back to work with you, room wrecker," she said with no pity.

A devious smirk suddenly appeared on Dean's face, making her wary.

"Is that an order, mistress?"

Buffy gasped and looked at Sam, who turned pink and wouldn't meet her eyes.

"You told him about that?"

Dean chuckled, a little good cheer restored now that he'd caused some trouble, and proceeded out the door with the table in tow. Sam shot a glare at his retreating form.

"This was a good idea," Sam said, his voice filled with spite toward his older brother. "Making Dean do all the work."

"Yeah, the insurance company could hire some guys to do it, but it's more fun this way," Buffy answered, already thinking up more things for Dean to do.

"Agreed."

"So, how's Brady doing?" She asked, settling back down on Sam's chest.

"Physically? Fine. Mentally… not so good. That demon was in there for a long time. I can't imagine what it'd be like to watch from the backseat for that long while something else drove your body around."

"Me either," Buffy sighed, feeling bad for Sam's friend and guilty that something like that had been going on in her own backyard without her knowing. "So he's going home today, right?"

"Yeah, he got out of the hospital this morning. I offered to come get him, but he said he was just going to catch a cab to the airport - head home for a while and get himself together, try and repair the damage the demon did with his family," Sam said with a shrug, then added softly, "I don't think he wanted to see me."

"Oh, Sam, I'm sorry," Buffy said, squeezing him slightly. She knew it had to be hard on him to not only find out his friend had been a demon for the majority of the time he'd known him, but now Brady was back to himself and he was leaving.

"It sucks, but it's nothing compared to how he's feeling. Besides, the guy I knew isn't really even him..."

"Still…"

"What I can't figure out is why he was possessed in the first place," Sam said thoughtfully. "Why would a demon set up shop in one person for so long? And why be friends with me? And why try to kill you? None of it makes any sense."

"I've given up trying to make sense of why demons do the things they do. It was up to something bad and now it's been stopped. That's all I need to know," Buffy said with a shrug.

While her words rang true and she kept her voice unworried, the truth was the same questions had been running around in her mind. The demon obviously had had some ulterior motive involving Sam, but she couldn't figure out what. And what about the other one? With it's ability to fling her around with its mind and go toe-to-toe with Angel and Spike, it was obviously the bigger and badder of the two big bads.

They laid there a while longer in silence, both of them pensive but comfortable. A crash and more cursing suddenly came from the dining room.

"Maybe I should…" Sam started.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, climbing off of him.

He stood and pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head before going to supervise Dean's progress. Buffy watched him go then went up to her office, shutting the door silently behind her. She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled quickly through the numbers until she came to Angel's direct line.

"Angel," he answered almost immediately, his voice was short and irritated.

"It's Buffy."

"Buffy…" His voice went softer, impatience disappearing, and despite the fact that things between them weren't romantic and never would be again, it still made her a little warm and fuzzy to know she had that effect on him. "Is something wrong? You need something?"

"Okay, so listen. I don't need to know the details about what's going on, why you were here, what those demons were up to," she said, steeling herself and putting her resolve into her voice. "I don't think I _want_ to know them. I'm happy, and I'd like to keep it that way. What I _do_ need to know is… is this something I need to be worrying about? Is something down the road going to pop up and bite us in the ass because of this?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line and Buffy found herself holding her breath - waiting for Angel to drop the bomb on her that would rip apart all that she'd been building here.

"No, Buffy. Everything's been taken care of. I promise."

Her breath whooshed out and a weight lifted from her shoulders. She knew she should press harder, make sure, get the whole story. But Angel's word was still good with her, and as she'd said, she didn't really _want_ to know unless she needed to.

"Thanks, Angel."

"Anytime, Buf."

She hung up and let the tension flow out of her. She could hear Sam and Dean bickering down the hall and let herself smile in relief. Things were alright. Maybe they wouldn't stay that way, maybe they would. But right now she was happy and worry free. She was going to enjoy it for as long as she could.

* * *

Angel hung up with Buffy and turned his attention back across the desk to his guest, not looking forward to continuing his conversation with the inflexible man in front of him. John Winchester stared at him with dark intelligent eyes. Eyes that Angel just _knew_ were hiding thoughts involving stakes and explosives. It had been almost impossible to convince him to come here in the first place and even harder to keep things from dissolving into violence. He'd been about to give up and go a few rounds with the man when Buffy had called.

"Buffy," John said after a beat. "That's the girl my son's living with? The Slayer?"

"Yes," Angel said tightly, unsure he could control himself if the Winchester patriarch said anything nasty about Buffy. "She wanted to make sure that whatever was going on with the demon was taken care of. That they wouldn't have to worry about it later on."

"So she knows?" John asked, narrowing his eyes. "She knows about the bigger picture?"

"Buffy's far from stupid. She knows there's more to this than meets the eye. But no, she doesn't know the details about what Azazel was doing there or his connection to Sam."

John flinched at the word "connection" and deflated a little.

"And she's okay with that? Not knowing?"

"As long as it doesn't threaten Sam or anyone else again and as long as she knows whatever it was planning has been stopped, then yes, she's fine with it. Her and Sam are happy, Mr. Winchester. She doesn't want to jeopardize that."

"So, what you know, what you found out about the demon's plans for my son, they die here?"

"That's right, they die here with the demon."

John stared at him for a moment, eyes assessing and thoughtful. A knock came at the door before Angel could determine if the man believed him or not.

"We're ready," Fred said, popping her head in the door.

Angel stood and nodded to Fred.

"We'll be right there," he said, waiting for her to shut the door again before continuing. "I figured you want to see its end with your own eyes."

John's eyes widened slightly. "Its still here?" He breathed. "You're about to…"

Angel nodded and headed for the door, not waiting to see if the other man would follow. He heard the hunter lever himself out of the chair and follow after a second. He had to force himself not to go on the defensive - having John Winchester at his unguarded back wasn't something his instincts approved of.

They made the trip to Fred's lab in tense silence, arriving within minutes to find Fred and Wesley starting through a glass wall into a room beyond while Spike hovered around looking bored. Angel had been here quite a few times in the last few days, so the sight inside was nothing new to him. But John stopped and gaped when he reached Fred's side. There, inside what was like a glass room inside a bigger room, was the demon.

Extracted from its host, it was nothing more than a dark, smoky essences that coiled around and around, constantly testing the perimeters of the box and looking for a weakness. When it noticed its newest audience members, it shifted out of its wormlike form into something more humanoid. Yellow eyes stared out of the darkness and Angel could swear it looked amused.

After watching the demon for a moment, body tense and breath shallow, John pulled his gaze away to take in all the hoses and wires and devices hooked to the box the demon was housed in.

"So what does that thing _do_ exactly?

"It dematerializes the demon at a magical and cellular level. Deconstructing it from its very core, much like an atom-"

"It rips it apart," Wesley interrupted.

"Will it be painful?" John asked, gazed locked back on the demon.

"Um, well, we've never used it before. I guess it-"

"Yes, very," Wesley interrupted again.

Fred threw a look at him that was half exasperated and half grateful.

"Good… I want that sonofabitch to suffer."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. We've had some… less than successful tests the last couple days that were probably very unpleasant."

"I think the time it got pulled apart and then snapped back together like a rubber band looked pretty bloody painful, myself," Spike said from his spot leaning against a wall toward the back.

John gave a dark grin.

This was a man who'd let his revenge drive him, shape him, take him over. A man Angel himself had almost become more than once. He wondered if this would be the end of it. If John Winchester would be able to find his way back to the man he'd been before or if it was too late. As Fred flipped the switch, he guessed only time would tell.

* * *

Sam sat on the front porch, staring off into the empty lot across the street while Dean leaned against the railing, looking just as bewildered as Sam felt.

"He's coming _here_? That's what he said? You're sure?" He asked Dean again.

"Uh huh," Dean nodded. "Said he'd be here tomorrow."

Sam shook his head, nervous and excited, but mostly just confused. Dean had run down to the hardware store and when he'd gotten back he'd told Sam that dad had called. Told him to ignore the coordinates he'd left in his journal, he'd get another hunter to take care of it. That he wanted them to stay there in Palo Alto, he was coming to see them.

"Wow, that's… wow."

"I know, dude. It's weird. Why disappear and then just show back up? And he actually said it was time to put hunting on the backburner and concentrate on family for a while."

"So… possessed then?"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Dean said with a smirk, climbing to his feet, obviously having had enough of the speculating. "Well, back to work before your girlfriend breaks out the whip, I guess. Actually, that's not a bad thought…"

"Dean," Sam growled in warning.

Dean cackled and disappeared back in the house. Sam was still sitting there, pondering the upcoming visit with his dad when Buffy joined him.

"Dean says your dad's coming in tomorrow?"

"Yeah, we think he might be possessed."

"We've had plenty of practice with that lately."

Sam huffed out a laughed "No kidding" as she sat down beside him on the swing and he put his arm around her.

"Couldn't he just be coming because he actually wants to see you and Dean?" Buffy asked tentatively.

"I guess… Anything's possible. It's just so unlike him…"

His voice drifted off as he caught sight of Dawn's silver Civic zipping down the street and pulling into the driveway.

"Uh oh," Buffy said, tensing a little next to him. She'd purposely kept her sister in the dark about the events that had gone on a few days ago. Sam had warned her that Dawn would eventually pop up, see the damage to the house and demand to know what had happened. While Buffy had agreed, she still hadn't called.

Dawn hopped out of her car and rushed up the walk, calling out a "gotta pee!" before rushing into the house. Buffy cringed and they both waited. It didn't take long.

"What the hell?" Dawn reappeared on the porch seconds later, looking at them both with wide eyes and pointing back inside. "What _happened_?"

"Mice," Buffy blurted.

"That were smoking," Sam added.

"Really?" Dawn asked with a flat stare. "You're gonna use the smoking mice on me? And she's got _you_ in on it? That's the worst excuse in the world to recycle."

"I know…" Buffy said, looking confused herself. "It's just always the first thing that pops in my head."

"So what really happened?"

"Demons," Buffy said with a shrug.

Dawn shot a panicked look at Sam, but he just nodded. "Yep, demons."

"And you're- I mean that's-"

"Didn't you have to pee? Running water, flowing rivers, waves crashing, kshhhhh, pee?"

Dawn gave a little whimper and danced around before bolting back into the house.

"You're just delaying the inevitable," Sam pointed out.

"Why do now what you can do later? That's my philosophy."

"Really? Because I was thinking about a few things that we could do now, but I guess we could do them later…"

Buffy looked up at him with darkened green eyes. "Well, there's an exception to every rule…"

He pulled her close and was about to kiss her when the sound of shuffling feet drew both their attention, soon a head of purple hair appeared.

"Mrs. Stanowski! How're you feeling?" Buffy said as Sam stood to help her climb the porch steps.

"Oh, much better!" She said with a little wave as Sam settled her onto the swing. "That was so nice of you to send me to that nice spa. That night out with Faith must have taken more out of me than I thought, I just don't remember anything between then and getting that shiatsu massage."

"Uh… Well, we're glad you're back to feeling like yourself," Sam said.

"I just thought I'd come over and let you know about the new neighbors two houses down," she said, leaning forward and whispering conspiratorially. "Gypsy porn peddlers."

"Wow, that's…" Sam said, holding back a laugh.

"So, are they gypsies that peddle porn or are they peddling porn of gypsies?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Both," she answered and then started in on the details, each part more unbelievable than the last. Dawn poked her head out once, saw Mrs. Stanowski and disappeared back in the house again. After delivering her gossip, the old woman scurried off, surely to find more things to misinterpret and to come up with more outrageous stories.

"We really should say something. Stop her," Sam said.

"No way. I'm guessing having Mrs. Stanowski make crap up about you is some kind of neighborhood rite. Now she's finally off my back and on to someone new."

A loud growl came from Buffy's stomach and she pouted, looking down at it, complaining, "We haven't even done anything today…"

"Come on," Sam said, tugging her to her feet by her hand. "We better get you something to eat before you waste away to nothing."

They went back in the house to find Dean leaning on the wall, hovering over Dawn with his "How _you_ doin'" look. Buffy went rigid beside Sam.

"Dean…" she growled. "I will break every bone in your body and dismember that precious car of yours if you so much as lay _one _finger on my sister."

Dean gave a little "eep" before rushing off back down the hall.

"Jeez, Buffy! I can hit on the construction guy if I want," Dawn said, hands on her hips.

"That's not a construction guy, Dawn. That's Sam's brother. You really want Faith's leftovers?"

"If they look like that," Dawn said, looking back down the hall. "Hell yeah."

Sam left the two of them bickering and went into the kitchen, looking for a takeout menu. Things here would never be boring, that was for sure. Between rampaging demons, insane sisters, and purple haired old ladies, there was more than enough to keep him on his toes. There was also Buffy. And love. And a home. He had everything he ever wanted here under one roof. He'd never thought it would be possible to have both his hunting life and normal life combined, but here it was on a platter.

He was going to have his cake and eat it, too.

**The End**


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